Harry Potter and the Bonds of Love
by Kinoth
Summary: What once protected Harry is now killing him by inches. What is happening, and who will be able to shoulder the burden?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and various publishers. All rights are reserved.

Author's notes at bottom.

--

'The harsh light of morning' was an apt description of how Harry felt as he scrubbed the night's residue of sweat and tears from his eyes. Squinting at the bright light, he shoved his glasses on his face and proceeded to dress himself haphazardly in his cousin's castoffs, shortly thereafter showing up in his aunt's kitchen to make breakfast.

Frowning mightily at the hand holding a skillet of eggs, he took deep breaths to try and calm the trembling. Attempting the Occulmency exercises that he had picked up from _Mentalism: A Definitive Guide_ helped slightly, though he wasn't sure how long the quieting of the tremors would last.

The shaking of his hands, nervous twitches- small signs of the mental breakdown that was fast approaching, he figured. They had appeared the first night of his return to Privet Drive. The first blank spot in his memory was the next evening. He had hoped that this wasn't' Voldemort-related, and it seemed for once that it wasn't- which left him with no idea why he had the shakes, unless he was coming down with Turpett's or Tourettes or whatever.

His only bright spot had been the two visits from Tonks, and he called them bright spots only in retrospect. The first had been only two days after his arrival back at the Dursley's, and was memorable for the screaming match they had within the shelter of a silenced room. They had bellowed at each other about Sirius, thrown books, cursed each other's name and come within a hair's breadth- or so it had seemed- of pulling out wands and doing it right. Finally, though, they had collapsed crying in each other's arms, comforting and being comforted until they had woken up still tangled together hours later. Neither of them had spoken of that day, even during Tonks' second visit.

Almost a week later the metamorphmagus had arrived on his relatives' doorstep with a backpack full of goodies and had sat him down and talked. No, not talked- they _discussed things_, like adults Tonks had assigned herself the duty of catching the Boy-Who-Lived up with what was happening in the Wizarding World, and he was relieved to find out that Voldemort was laying low for the moment, which they assumed was because of the setbacks at the Department of Mysteries. The _Daily Prophet_ was going on about how he and Dumbledore had been telling the public about You-Know-Who's return for some time, just as if they had always been on his side. 'Saviour of the Wizarding World' or not, he had a few harsh things to say about the fickle press' infatuation with him.

Owl post had been light, as Hermione was on a short trip with her parents, and Ron's letter had been full of speculation about Quidditch season and complaints that the Granger's trip was being made to Bulgaria, and 'we both know what that means'. Harry decided that it meant that Ron had turned into an obsessive loon, and he mentioned as much to Tonks. Unsurprisingly, being a woman who could look like your heart's desire had attracted a stalker or two in her time at Hogwarts, and the junior Auror was able to point out how quickly Ron needed to be sorted out, and Harry made plans to talk with the youngest male Weasley in person, but a note telling him not to worry had to suffice until he could see him.

Tonks had brought one other thing in her bag of tricks- a stack of books on DADA, a few Occulmency texts, Auror training notes, and a few tomes on higher-level Transfiguration and Charms that he'd need to study in sixth and seventh year. He had been so overwhelmed by the gift that he had swept the Auror up into a hug that lasted until her watch softly chimed, telling her she was almost late for work. She had Apparated out soon after, though not quick enough for the slight blush that graced both of their cheeks to fade completely.

Harry's reverie was cut short by the arrival of his uncle and cousin at the table. Although it was easy to track the two obese men's travels through the house, the dark-haired boy was so used to hearing their clumping and stomping that he tuned it out. Quickly taking one last deep breath, he grabbed the pan and made his way to the table to begin serving.

--

The-Boy-Who-Lived slumped bonelessly onto the cot in Dudley's second bedroom, trying desperately to calm the tremors that wracked his body. He was breathing hard and sweating from doing yardwork under the summer sun, and the glass of water he was allowed did little to cool him off or calm him down. At first he had been okay, letting the dullness of trimming Aunt Petunia's privet hedges lull him into mindlessness, but soon after his thoughts had returned to the Department of Mysteries, the battles, the look on Sirius's face as the Veil caressed his face-

Harry's eyes flew back open as he stared sightlessly at the ceiling. Sucking in a deep breath, he noted that it looked a little less bright than it had been earlier, and a glance towards the battered clock at his bedside confirmed that an hour had passed while he was in some sort of quasi-dreamland.

Sighing, he levered himself off the bed and sat down at the book opened on the desk. Forcefully shoving aside the thoughts and memories, pointedly ignoring the self-abuse his mind tried to scream at him, he picked up the thread of _Mentalism_'s author, hoping that the next page would contain an exercise that would keep this from happening again. After a moment, he was so engrossed in the book that it took his Uncle Vernon three bellows to rouse him to cook dinner, hours later.

In the intervening time between waking and cooking his hands had been steady. The rhythm of the words as he read and the laser-sharpness of his concentration kept him from really comparing, but he would have been surprised to see how calm and _normal_ he looked, even considering his frail and thin frame.

Harry was just finishing up his meal (half a chicken breast, dry, and twenty-two peas), when he finally reconnected with the outside world, paying enough attention to hear what Dudley was saying.

"-ot, anyway. Can't we kick _him_ back to that murderer godfather of his so I can have my room back? Maybe he'll kill _him_, and we'll be rid of Harry, just like his parents!"

Any peace Harry had achieved in the past few hours evaporated as the green-eyed boy slammed his violently trembling hands down on the table and snapped his eyes up to meet with Dudley's. Unlike the time, three summers ago when he blew up his Aunt Marge, there were no shattering plates, no broken glass. As Harry's eyes slid from his cousin's and rolled into the back of his head the house shuddered under an onslaught of wind. The rumble of approaching storm clouds sounded higher than usual, and had the Dursley's been able to tear their eyes away from their mistreated charge- now thrashing violently in the middle of a seizure, floating free above the linoleum- they would have seen ebony stormclouds swirl out of nothingness above their home, blotting out the sky over Little Winging.

Harry had not said a word during dinner, and the cry that escaped from his mouth contained no intelligible words, though it seemed the catalyst for the bright aura that flared into life around the pale, writhing boy. Tendrils of power whipped out, and just as one reached towards the ceiling, it exploded in a hail of splinters and slate shrapnel as a bolt of lightning met the figure of the Boy-Who-Lived. For a moment his eyes dulled, and something that resembled a smile flitted across his lips before the corona flickered and died dropping him to the melted remains of the floor even as the soft staccato _pops_ of apparition were drowned out by the crash of thunder.

--

Even without his glasses, Harry was able to figure out he was laying in the Hogwarts infirmary within two seconds of waking- there was just something about the smell of the place, and the light from the high windows near the roof always blinded him when his eyes popped open. He tried to groan as he struggled to sit upright, but all that passed his mouth was a rush of air. A hand reached out and grabbed his glasses, even as Harry took mental stock of his body. Nothing seemed to be broken, although now that he was fully awake, his body happily let him know that trying to sit up had been a bad idea. In fact, breathing hurt. A wince and another soundless expellation of air after he discovered that his heart beating against his ribs hurt. The raven-haired boy was trying to decide if trying to lay back would be more painful than sitting up when the sound of soft footsteps rushing towards him.

Glancing towards the sound he saw Madame Pomfrey and- Fleur Delacour?- making their way towards him quickly. Just as Harry was debating the merits of braving the pain and collapsing back in bed, Madame Pomfrey closed to within speaking distance.

"Mister Potter! I don't know _how_ you got into this state, but you shouldn't be trying to sit up! Fleur, lower my _favorite_ patient back down and help me look him over."

The always industrious Hogwarts Healer directed Fleur in settling Harry onto his back before whipping out her wand. Closing his eyes, Harry noted absently that the silver-blonde woman's proximity didn't seem to be causing the mind-numbing arousal he expected, perhaps because he hurt so damn much his other brain was sleeping. His breath hissed between his teeth as Madame Pomfrey prodded a particularly painful section of his chest, and he locked eyes with the quarter-veela, who had an odd, vaguely distracted look on her face.

The mediwitch continued rattling off a series of spells and explanations that Harry let wash over him, especially once he was assured that his voice would be back in just a few days despite having been 'savaged like a wolf's dinner', according to Pomfrey. Once he had been pronounced nominal by the experienced medic, Fleur had been dispatched on one or another errand and Madame Pomfrey had bustled off, leaving the clank of bottles the only sign of her presence.

The enforced calm of his healing-potion-induced haze did not last long, as Harry couldn't help but notice that the tremors in his hands had picked back up. Every muscle twitch and spasm, however small, caused pain to flare along raw nerves. A small twitch or two had signaled Fleur's departure from the infirmary, a few more after Madame Pomfrey took off, and they were steadily getting worse. Unable to say anything to call attention to himself, Harry could only wait and hope that someone came to check up on him soon. The door of the infirmary _swooshed_ open, and the green-eyed boy blinked in relief at the footsteps making their way towards him. Except... Fleur was walking awfully slow, wasn't she? Finally, a head popped into view, and Harry's hopes plummeted.

The white-haired head of Albus Dumbledore bobbed into view as the aged wizard made his way to a seat next to the bed. Unlike normal, the Headmaster's pale blue eyes lacked their usual twinkle, and his demeanor was stern, like a grandfather about to administer a lecture to a particularly obstinate grandchild, though fatigue lined his face.

Harry slowly and painfully levered himself to a sitting position, noting the lack of either of the women, and the general silence. Apparently this _was _to be a lecture. He met Dumbledore's eyes for a second, and the older man began to speak.

"Harry, I am gravely worried about what happened last night. You seem to be increasingly incapable of controlling your anger and your power. I have been dealing with _Oblivating _witnesses, rebuilding Privet Drive and, most importantly, with Minister Fudge to try and contain the fallout from this explosion. Voldemort or not, he is threatening to have your wand." Fatigue had made Dumbledore far more short-tempered that Harry could remember him being, but that knowledge did not help quell his burgeoning anger at the Headmaster's next sentence. "I cannot understand what could possibly have caused you to do this, there just is no reason. You-"

The pale boy could no longer hide the shaking of his limbs, nor did he care to. In his anger he locked eyes with the aged warlock and was amazed to see him pale, his eyes darting around Harry, reading something the younger boy could not see. Dumbledore's wrinkled skin sagged slightly as he once again locked his eyes to the emerald orbs of the violently shaking boy.

Harry made a noise that was supposed to be a growl, but bubbled forth like a death rattle. His anger at the undeserved scolding seemed to snap against a magical barrier, and that sizzle could be felt by the robe-clad figure just a few feet away. Harry's mind was so clouded by anger that he did not note the female voice screaming _"Legilimens!"_, nor the now-audible clash of magical forces. The pale, shaking boy did feel his sight graying, and instead of the aged face of Hogwarts' Headmaster, he was looking at a featureless plain as far as he could discern. Before he could do anything, however, he felt something cover him, like a blanket being draped over his head. What shook him, however, was the voice that echoed through this dreary place.

_Goddammit Albus Dumbledore, I cannot believe you would do this to my child! My Harry just needs to be protected, and you all but send him off to do battle for you. My Harry should be taught how to defend himself, and you don't check to see that Severus has done it right! I'll **tell** you what to do to help my Harry, just you watch!_

A sphere appeared in Harry's sight, dropping swiftly to the floor, where it disappeared like a stone into a pond, only without the ripples. Moments later, a white light flared from all around him, and Harry was struck on how like a Pensieve this seemed- there were figures becoming clearer...

_"Lily, I need some blood for the ritual."_ -a blur- James Potter, sloppily dressed, kissing his wife hurriedly. **"I know the wards aren't done, so get Harry away from here- I'll hold him off." **_Voldemort was a elegant man, greying hair at the temples, but his eyes were madness. greenlightbutidieasifinishtheritualyoubastard._ Voldemort points his wand at my baby, my Harry, green light moving so slow-_whyamistillherewaitthere'smybodygottagetinfrontofthespellmustprotectmy**BABY!-**_

Gods, what hit me? Wait, there's Harry in Albus' arms- at PETUNIA'S? You don't know what they'll do there!

_ A sharp-faced Petunia scowling at her from the doorway "I don't care how good you do at that- school- of yours, and I don't know why Mummy and Daddy do either. You're nothing but a nonhuman FREAK!" She screamed at my Harry as I watched him try to block the frying pan with his arm, and it hits with a _**CLANK** _as my Harry gets shoved back into the wall and that bastard child Dudley and his friends scream "FREAK!" bellows the huge Vernon Dursley **throws** my baby in the cupboard under the stairs and locks the door as it swings shut behind my baby Harry as he drinks the potion and crosses the fire to confront Voldemort's twisted head on the back of Quirrel's as my power shelters **my baby **and he burns him as the scar throbs and he tries to fight Voldemort with the golden beam connecting their wands and _God_ my baby, don't push yourself, let **Mummy** take care of you oh there I am with James and I love you _**SO** **MUCH_ my Harry _**_as you snap at Dumbledore but you shouldn't do that again as Nymphadora talks to you I leech off of her strength so I can hold you back as your anger and depression flare as fatpigDudley says "-kick him back to that murderer godfather of his so I can have my room back? Maybe he'll kill him, and we'll be rid of Harry, just like his parents!_"_ **no no** only as much as a baby can handle stop my baby my Harry my love must protect my baby my angel my-_

"'Arry! Snap ouz of et!"

Already-abused ribs shrieked their complaint as Harry sucked in a gigantic breath, the air burning against his abraded throat. He made a sound that sounded like he was gargling a lung and slumped, held only by Fleur's inhumanly strong grip on his shoulders. As his head flopped forward from a particularly violent shake, he noticed that Dumbledore was looking pale and shaky himself as he was being hovered over by Madame Pomfrey. The Headmaster's eye caught his own emerald ones and the ancient wizard shooed both Healer and apprentice away for a moment before gathering himself enough to speak.

"Harry, I must apologize to you again- this has surprised me beyond anything I could imagine, and I have made several- no, _many-_ wrong assumptions, and we- I- must reap what I have sown." Dumbledore shrunk in upon himself slightly, coughing into his hand. "It seems that the protections I believed you had- your mother's sacrifice- was intended to be something different. I am afraid that the protections that shelter you from Voldemort may be causing you problems. Unfortunately, we will need time to decipher what is truly happening. Let us rest, Harry, and we will speak of it in the morning. Shall we?"

The pale boy nodded gratefully as Dumbledore laboriously made his way to his feet and began shuffling to the door, made slow even beyond his great number of years.

As the purple robes swept out of sight Harry let his body flop back to the bed bonelessly, heedless of the pain from complaining muscles. _Mum,_ he thought, and the warmth that swept through him eased his aches as he slid down into darkness.

--

Author's Notes:

First, I'd like to thank Phoenixgod2000, also known as jon3776 on FFnet for the idea I have taken and adapted. Also, consider this a plug for 'Redempton of the Black Sisters'- add it to your reading list if you haven't already.  
This will be a 'Brides' derivative, and will involve Harry and more than one female. No, I'm not telling you who it is. Careful reading of the first few chapters will help you out there. Comments are always welcome, as this chapter has only been lightly beta'ed for content, not for grammar, Americanisms, or canonical validity.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry wasn't sure when he finally crossed the line between sleeping and waking, but his first actual thought was content at the warmth he felt. The second, coming soon after, was _who the hell is rubbing my back?_

With that, Harry sat up noting absently the lessened- though still existent- pain and squinted to discern his company. The light caused his eyes to water, so he could only puzzle out the figure before they reached out and handed him something black and fuzzy.

"Bonjour, 'arry. Comment ca- er, 'ow are you feeling?"

The green-eyed boy slid his glasses on, bringing the quarter-veela into focus. She lowered her eyes demurely for a moment, then looked up and smiled. Without the force of her veela charms it was a warm, comforting smile, and Harry couldn't help but smile in return. He tried to speak to let he know he felt better and ended up with a sound that resembled someone strangling wildlife, so he settled with an 'okay' sign with his hand and a nod.

The blonde girl made an approving sound and giggled at his attempts to speak. She picked up a flask of something green and effervescent and cheerfully made him choke down the vile-tasting concoction. Harry mumbled sullenly at having to drink something that had to have come from Severus Snape's cauldron. While the potion did its work, Fleur worked him over with diagnostic spells, some he knew from exposure with Madame Pomfrey, and some that were new. He began to tune out the muttered spells and _bon_s and _d'accord_s after the first few minutes and found his mind wandering through idle musings. He shied away from everything he had experienced in the last two days, and was unsurprised when his thoughts turned to the attractive witch hovering over him. He wondered exactly why Fleur was here in the first place, and after she had finished with her spiel, he tried to ask as much via sign language. Unfortunately, he was obviously still under the influence of whatever poison Snape had created, because in hindsight, rubbing his fingers together like picking through change, shrugging and pointing at the bed seemed more like a proposition that a question.

"'arr-ee... Are you saying what I zhink you said?"

The Boy-Who-Lived's brain, having taken the time to rethink his charades, shook his head wildly while gesticulating with his hands and issuing sounds like wounded sheep, stopping only at Fleur's wicked smile.

"You are cute when you blush, 'arry." Fleur brushed a strand of platinum-blonde hair back into place, "I zhink you were try-eng to zhay Gringott's, no?"

Harry blew out a breath discreetly at the French girl's amused reaction and nodded. Fleur's grin faded from her face a bit as she continued.

"Zhere were many reasons, unfortun- unfortunut- I zhink. Ze goblins starting acting strange aroun' me, all lazy and such, and ah...." The quarter-veela sat next to Harry on the bed, but looked at the far wall. "Bill's brozers- Charles an' Ron- got into a fight wit' Bill about me, too."

Fleur blew out a breath and slumped, a move Harry noted was very unlike her. Her English had deteriorated somewhat as well, and he had a hard time making out some of her words as she started talking again.

"Hiz mozer don't like me eizer. I juz don't know 'ow you do 'ouseold chores- I even tried asking 'er and 'elping, but she juz looks at me strangze when I have to asz 'ow to do somezhing zhat zhe zhinks I zhould know! I juz can't 'elp eet!"

Fleur had continued talking, but it had degenerated into French mixed with a word or two of English, marked with sniffles. Harry couldn't see her face, as she had moved her head forward and shaded it with her hair, and wondered what, exactly, he was supposed to do. Women seemed to be falling apart more and more around him, and it left him feeling helpless. How should he know how to comfort someone when he had such a bad time himself?

Harry sat up slowly and levered himself around so that he was sitting next to the shaking French veela. He reached out a hand slowly, still trying to formulate a plan, but all that came to mind was years of Aunt Petunia's soap operas, and how badly things always went when the actors tried to 'make it all better'.

Fleur jumped when his hand touched her back and began to slide up and down her spine, almost as if he had touched her with a live wire. She turned to look at him through the curtain of her hair, and Harry was surprised to see that the girl's face had contorted to look a bit more bird-like, though not nearly as much as the full veela he had seen. There were no trace of tears on her face, though her eyes were red and puffy as she sniffled. Forgetting himself, he tried to ask if she was going to be alright, but all that escaped was a bass rumble that caused the veela-girl to bury her head in the crook of his neck. The half-dressed boy froze, shocked for a moment before folding his arms around her in a clumsy hug. He continued sliding his hand up and down the girl's back and tried to impress upon her that everything would work out, but all that came out was either a soft susurrus or that deep rumbling.

Harry didn't know how long he held the slight, shaking girl, but he comforted her as best he could. He found that trying to soothe Fleur caused a similar reaction in him; as her trembling calmed, he noted that his palsy was nonexistent. After a while, Harry moved slightly to try and relieve the strain on his back from twisting to comfort Fleur, and through some odd gymnastics the veela ended up sitting across his lap without removing her head from his shoulder. With a murmured _"Merci, 'arry"_, she had snuggled tighter for a few minutes while he had cradled her in his arms.

In time, however, the blonde girl had extricated herself from the shelter of his arms, brushing her hair back from her face in an unconsciously graceful gesture as she turned to face him. The birdlike cast of her face had faded, and the only hint of her earlier outburst was the slight redness of her eyes. Fleur lifted his right hand- the one that had been caressing her back- and softly kissed his knuckles, then turned it over and kissed the palm.

"Merci, 'arry. You are-" she smiled a soft, trembling smile, "_Tu es l'ame de la chevalerie_."

Harry dipped his head to her, feeling honored by the sentiment, even if he didn't really understand the words. His cheeks colored as he wondered how long Fleur would continue holding his hand and looking at him like that- he felt the odd stirring in his stomach like he did when _serious things_ happened with women. He raised his head and met the quarter-veela's gaze levelly, tamping down his uneasiness.

Finally, though, Fleur released his hand and seemed to regain her composure.

"Ah, 'arry I apologize. 'eadmaster 'as _requested_ you see 'im, if you are up to eet." The French girl had carefully enunciated 'requested' as if to drive home that it was not a demand.

The raven-haired boy nodded and stood, scrabbling for the sheet when he figured out that he was clothed only in an ill-fitting pair of boxers that had crept perilously close to sliding off. He grunted and pointed at himself, which brought a giggle from the intern mediwitch while she fetched him a spare robe.

Freshly attired, Fleur escorted Harry to the headmaster's stair. He was grateful for the witch's presence when he saw the gargoyle, as he had no way to speak the password, if he even knew what it was. She thanked him for his generosity again, then turned to the statue and said the password.

"'umbug!"

After a moment, when it became apparent that the statue was not going to move aside, Fleur tried again, with the same lack of results. Stamping her foot imperiously, the slight French girl let loose with a blistering blast of French that ended with a carefully enunciated "'umbug", after which the gargoyle fairly lept aside. Fleur turned to Harry, who was studying the wall in order to get a grip on his laughter.

"'arry, ask the 'eadmaster to change ze password, s'il vous plait?"

Harry nodded gravely, biting his lip as he started up the stairs.

--

Entering Dumbledore's office, Harry noted that the shelves looked a little bare, but many of the oddities and widgets had been replaced. Dumbledore himself was sitting by a window, looking for all the world like a simple scholar with books piled high on a table next to him and one open in his lap, part of one page covered by his beard. There was a bit of a twinkle in his eye, but that was easily explained with his first sentence.

"When you next see Miss Delacour, please let her know that the password will be 'ginger snaps', Harry."

The laughter Harry had gotten control over bubbled to the surface, and he couldn't help but snort and attempt to not make horrible noises while his shoulders shook in laughter. When he straightens, he pantomimed a tip of the hat to the aged Headmaster for defusing the tension that lay between the two wizards. As the younger of the two settled himself into a chair, Dumbledore let the smile on his face fade slightly.

"Harry, I want to start this conversation out by apologizing to you, again. I had hoped to have answers for you on what exactly happened last night, but it seems that I will need to have assistance on this, and so I will contact Professors Flitwick, Vector, and McGonagall if you wish to continue." Dumbledore paused a moment to look over his half-moon glasses. "I ask that you agree to let them look and discover more about this interference with the magic around you, even if you decide that nothing should be done with it. I ask this because I believe that whatever has happened recently will destroy you if we cannot contain or reverse its effects."

The raven-haired boy beetled his brow and gestured for quill and parchment. Instead, Dumbledore handed him a piece of wood carved to look like a quill with the instruction to wave it and think what he wanted to say. Nodding, Harry waved it between himself and Dumbledore.

_So you don't actually know what's wrong, and I'll be stuck here all summer?_

The elder wizard frowned a bit at the phrasing. "I do not know exactly what is wrong- and you saw what happened yesterday when I _assumed_ what you had done without checking. Three or four heads are better than one here. To answer your other question, the research could be done just as easily at the Order's Headquarters as here. You could Floo between the two points if you wished, as well."

Harry looked a bit green at the thought of returning to Grimmauld Place, but rather than immediately object, he forced himself to breathe deeply and think about what Dumbledore was asking of him. Even if he was being manipulated, this got him away from the Dursleys, and the library of the House of Black was extensive, so he could spend the summer actually learning how to defend himself rather than wasting away and going spare. Taking one more large breath he raised the stick and waved.

_I will agree to stay at Grimmauld Place. _He blew out a breath and let his shoulders slump a bit. _Although it would be nice to have someone to talk to about... Sirius. Would Tonks be available?_

A tiny twinkle escaped Dumbledore's eye. "Actually, Nymphadora has been staying at Grimmauld Place recently- which brings me to another issue I must discuss with you in a moment. I will contact the Professors today, and will set up a time for them to meet and discuss what needs to be done to learn more about this phenomenon tomorrow. That will give you the day off to recuperate a bit, and hopefully get your voice back."

_So what was the other thing you wanted to talk about?_

Dumbledore conjured a bookmark and placed the tome in his lap aside. "Nymphadora and Remus received mail yesterday from Gringott's. You also had a letter addressed to you, but I kept it here while you were sleeping. This has to do with Sirius' will- if you wish to wait and open it later, or do so in private, I will leave." He handed a packet over to Harry, who noted the red seal of official Gringott's business on the flap.

He bowed his head over the envelope for a moment before waving the wand slowly.

_Stay._

Dumbledore nodded as Harry broke the seal on the parchment package. The wax glittered slightly as he unfolded he paper. He remained motionless as he scanned the paper, his eyes flickering slightly as they moved from line to line. Only after reading both pages did a flicker of confusion cross his face. Harry blinked slowly, raising his eyes to Dumbledore and blinking again, before grabbing the quill and waving it.

_Is this legal?_

The Headmaster nodded. "Gringotts is a law unto itself, Harry. The will is legal and uncontestable by the Ministry. The rest is... unusual, but also legal. It was something that Sirius had begun researching as soon as he had access to a library of magical law."

Harry was amazingly dry-eyed as he looked over the papers again. _I don't understand what this will mean. What was Sirius trying to accomplish?_

Slipping a lemon drop into his mouth, Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment before replying. "Harry, I want to be as honest as possible with you. Your godfather did this for a few reasons- some of which could be considered selfish. First, by appointing you as his inheritor, you will take over as head of the Black family name- and you are not a pureblooded wizard, something that would have caused much consternation to Sirius' parents. But the Black line will continue, and as much as he hated their beliefs, he did love his family."

"Of course, as the Head of the Black family line, you are exempt from some rules governing "normal" wizards. The underage magic restrictions, for example, do not apply to you. You will be allowed to test for your Apparition license early, as Lords must be able to travel as they please. Also, even in this day and age there are still items and spells whose use is frowned upon unless you are a Lord or Head of Household."

_Can I refuse this?_

"Of course. If I may offer an observation, however-" Harry nodded, "due to the way the law is written, if you refuse this, the Lordship falls to the oldest male heir. That is Draco Malfoy." At the boy's scowl, the older man held up a hand. "That is something I wanted you to know before you decided. Wizarding law only recognizes a male as a Lord, so it would not fall to Bellatrix or Narcissa, but to Draco. Do not feel that you must accept this, Harry. It is another burden, but it is also a gift."

The young wizard blew out an explosive breath that rattled in his throat and nodded slowly. He glared at his hands as he refolded the pages, frowning slightly at the tremble. Calming himself mentally, he reached for the wooden quill. _So, when can I get to Grimmauld place, then?_ He paused a moment for the words to fade, then waved it again. _And I need my things, if they're still around._

A twinkle reappeared in Dumbledore's eye. "I did recover your belongings, Harry, but had given them to Nymphadora to hold. I regret to inform you, however, that after examining your trunk, your clothes seem to be missing. Perhaps I can apologize to your for yesterday by authorizing a small shopping trip?"

Harry cocked his head and gave a half-smirk. _Is Tonks the one that told you that my clothes were gone?_ The half-smile grew a bit at the headmaster's nod, and he gave a rueful shake of the head. _As long as she doesn't try to get me in leather trousers like she threatened to, it sounds like a plan._

--

Heading to the Order's Headquarters was not the easy Floo trip he expected it to be. Before leaving for Grimmauld Place, Harry had gone through yet another set of tests from Madame Pomfrey and her platinum-blonde shadow. After being fed more stomach-curdling potions, Harry found that he could speak again, even if he did sound like he was trying to smuggle stones in his gullet.

When she learned where he was going, Fleur has immediately begun rattling off a bewildering list of things she thought would look good on him, both Wizarding and Muggle. At his shocked look, the part-veela had daintily waved a hand and declaimed "Fashion iz fashion, 'arry."

Despite his protestations that he was going to wear nothing but jeans and t-shirts for the rest of his life, the beautiful French girl and informed him that if he did she'd drag him out and re-outfit him herself. Professor Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey had simply stood back and smiled, much to his discomfort.

--

One Floo ride later and Harry was climbing up the stairs with the only pair of clothes that had survived the trip to Grimmauld Place. One hot shower later, and most of his minor aches had gone away, leaving only a weariness that he looked forward to getting rid of that night. He met Tonks in the kitchen and he had followed the bubblegum pink hair of the Auror a few blocks from the Headquarters so they could catch a cab to the stores.

Shopping with Tonks was just about as fun as he could reasonably expect shopping to be- it wasn't something he would ever enjoy, but it wasn't as horrible as it could be. The older woman had kept up a light patter of conversation, allowing him to answer mostly with nods or grunts to accommodate his still-healing throat. She had browsed the racks of jeans before handing him three and shooing him towards the changing rooms. The first pair he had slipped into was pretty tight, and when he walked out to comment on the bad fit, Tonks had turned him around and gave a wolf whistle.

"Nice buns, Harry! Nice to see you haven't blown one off."

The green-eyed boy had whirled around and placed both hands over his butt protectively. "Hey!" he croaked, and then scowled dramatically. He backed in to the dressing room and shut the door forcefully before peeling the devil-spawned things off.

With much less fanfare (and no comments about his arse, thank God, Merlin, and anyone else who listened), Harry was shortly the owner of five new pairs of jeans of various shades and types. Of course, that meant that he needed the rest of his wardrobe.

"Harry, as much as I think buying you nothing but tight t-shirts would make the girls of Hogwarts very happy, you need to have actual clothes, not loungewear." Tonks smiled a bit to take the sting out of her words, and crinkled her nose at him.

The Boy-Who-Lived grumbled a bit. "I have my school slacks and shirts and blazers- that's good enough."

One set of narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow later, and Harry found himself learning the ins-and-outs of polo shirts, henleys, rugby shirts and sweaters, and boggling over the horrible patterns of something called a 'Hawaiian' shirt. It wasn't long before his eyes glazed over, and he shuffled zombie-like to the fitting rooms to try on various outfits, occasionally noting a few that looked good on the put-upon boy in the mirror.

Just has he was bending to pull up a pair of khaki pants that he noticed that Tonks was sitting on the little bench in the room, eyeing him. He jumped a bit, startled, and had to catch himself to keep from falling as the pants caught and bunched around his ankles. The Auror- whose hair had morphed into a blue so dark it was almost black at some point- gave a braying laugh as he righted himself.

"Wotcher Harry! Getting a little tired, are you?"

He blinked owlishly at her. "Must be. When'd you start sitting in here?" He flushed and pulled the slacks up, not meeting her eyes.

Still chuckling a bit, Tonks wiped at her eyes. "Just walked in, actually. You seemed zoned out a bit, so I wanted to startle you awake."

"It certainly did, thanks." Harry muttered. He paused for a moment and looked up. "You know, I really appreciate you helping me with this, but do I really need _all_ of this stuff?" Harry blinked as a thought occurred to him. "You're not gonna make me have to get fitted for a suit, are you? That'd take _hours_!" The look on his face set Tonks off laughing again.

"Nah, I think we'll pass this time, Harry." The girl smirked at the sigh of relief that escaped him, but it melted off her face as she continued, "We'll leave that sort of shopping for your other girlfriend". Tonks sounded almost petulant at the end, and she looked at the floor.

Harry stilled and looked at the woman curiously. "What're you talking about? I don't have a girlfriend, much less an 'other' girlfriend."

Tonks cocked her head at him, letting her spiky hair bounce around her face. "Well who was the French chick that gave me hell while you were in the shower?"

"Fleur?" Harry look perplexed. "How'd she firecall to Grimmauld, I thought the Fidelus wouldn't let her. Is she part of the Order?" He looked up to see Tonks rolling her eyes. "What?"

"Amorous girls call and you're worried about how they tracked you down? Shouldn't you be pleased that she called, and then try to look good for your woman?"

Harry threw his hands up in the air. "She's not my 'woman'! During the Tournament I was just another little 'Eenglish barbarian' until I saved her sister. Besides, she was seeing Bill Weasley."

Tonks had a smile that rivaled the Mona Lisa's. "Sorry about that, Harry. Maybe she just wants to bring out your inner stud rather than the adorable ragamuffin look you sport sometimes." She ignored his grumblings gracefully and stood. "So why don't you get your ass into those jeans and let's get out of this joint."

Harry had never stripped so fast in his life.

As Harry followed Tonks' bobbing head through the crowd- her hair was green now, and easy to pick out- he reflected that shopping with a witch had its advantages. The young wizard carried a bag containing all of his other clothes purchases- something like ten bags worth- shrunk to fit into one bag, with no real added weight. He was trying to recall which spells the Auror had used to enchant the bag when he followed Tonks through a door. A few moments later he stopped and took a big sniff of the surrounding area. His lips thinned as he looked up and sniffed again.

"Tonks...."

The petite figure of the junior Order member had turned down an aisle near him, and her head popped up at his call.

"Yeah, Harry?"

The Boy-Who-Lived scowled at the innocent puppy eyes that she turned on him. "I told you weeks ago that I'd never wear leather trousers, so unless we're looking for jackets, we can leave." He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to look imposing and the bag crinkled against him.

"Oh, _really?"_ Tonks stalked into view holding a pair of black leather trousers he was sure was too small for him in front of her. Stunned, he could only watch as the woman slowly swung her hips as she moved towards him, the curves disappearing behind the leather only for an equally-luscious hip to appear on the other side. A question tickled his brain: _Had her skirt had those thigh-high slits in the sides the whole time they were out?_

Stopping a scant foot in front of him, Tonks cocked her hips to the side, leaving him with a perfect view of a toned leg draped in the clingy black material of her skirt. She inclined her body toward him, almost inviting him to look down her shirt as it gaped open at the neck. Reaching out, she ran a finger down the side of his neck, then traced a line down the middle of his chest. Harry's arms fell to the side as her finger dipped to his bellybutton, the bag dropping from nerveless fingers. When she reached his waist, he felt a buzz through his body. The green-haired woman hooked a finger into his belt loop and pulled him roughly, causing him to stumble towards her on leaden feet. When they were face-to-face, she gave him a heavy-lidded stare.

"Harry," she growled, "You will wear these, and you will look hot in them. If you do not try them on _now_ I will strip you here in the middle of the store and put them on you myself." She curled a hand around the back of his neck and brought her full, pink lips next to his ear. "Okay?" she asked breathily.

Harry tried his best to suppress the pleasurable shiver that raced down his spine. _I'm supposed to withstand Voldemort, but I can't even think when a woman comes on to me. Christ._ He thought he could feel the fairy-kiss of her eyelashes against his throat and swallowed convulsively.

In a small voice, the Saviour of the Wizarding World rasped, "Okay."

--

Author's Notes:

I really wanted to update this within two weeks of the first chapter, but for some reason I hit a block with the last half. You may notice that not much has happened- chapters 3 and 4 will fix that somewhat. I have come out with another story as well- born out of the block I had on this story- that will be updated simultaneously.

Once again, this chapter has not been beta'ed, and has only quickly been run through MSWord for spellchecking.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry was sure that he had reached the human limit for embarrassment- unfortunately, no matter how hot his blush, he hadn't spontaneously combusted. He was almost hoping for a reoccurrence of the pyrotechnic show that had happened the other day.

Looking up through his hanging fringe, Harry saw Hermione and Ginny staring at him with similar dumbstruck expressions on their faces. He supposed he could understand- normally his clothes were ill-fitting and shabby, if not downright rubbish, and the leather trousers and fitted grey t-shirt were decidedly _not_ shabby. The outfit allowed more of his body to show than was displayed when he wore his Quidditch uniform.

What _disturbed_ him were the looks from the rest of the women at the kitchen table. He had walked into the kitchen to get something to drink- _and maybe a spatula to help pry me out of the damned cowhide tights!-_ and found what seemed to be a hen party.

Fleur was staring at him coquettishly through lowered eyelashes, a rosy tinge to her cheeks. A tiny pink sliver of tongue peeked out to slowly wet her lips as she met his eyes for one charged moment and smiled. Incredibly, Harry felt the blush on his face ratchet up another shade of red. Looks like _that_ he could deal with. Seeing the same smile on McGonagall, Vector and Pomfrey's faces made him queasy. The odd gleam in their eyes caused tendrils of ice to creep through his limbs, stealing his strength. He felt... like _prey._

"Er... hullo." he mumbled morosely as he shuffled over to a seat.

"_Mister_ Potter," The Deputy Headmistress began in her normal lecturing-a-naughty-student tone, "are those trousers-" and here she dropped her voice to a whisper that was almost reverent, "_leather?_"

A new crimson blush broke out over Harry's cheeks, replacing the one that just begun to fade as he nodded. "'S Tonks' idea." he muttered in a gravelly voice.

Smiles were shared between the older ladies and the junior Auror as she entered the kitchen behind him. Hermione and Ginny, however, continued to stare at him as if they could see his arse through the table if they just concentrated enough. Harry quickly tried to head off any more talk about his arse or its coverings before someone else could make a comment.

"So... why are you all here today? I thought Professor Dumbledore said he'd contact you today, but we'd start with everything tomorrow."

"I did, Harry." Dumbledore's comment occurred at the same time as the gentle _whoosh_ of displaced air from his portkey. "However, everyone involved decided to use today to prepare the room to examine you in, rather than waste the day tomorrow."

Harry nodded in response, thankful that he could meet _someone's _gaze without fearing what he'd see there, even if there was a surfeit of twinkling in the old wizard's eyes. "Will you need me for any of the work today, Professor?"

The older man smiled kindly at the dark-haired teenager. "No, we shouldn't, Harry. However, if you have a spare moment I would like to speak with you while the rest head upstairs to assist Filius." Dumbledore threw a pointed look at Professor McGonagall, who tore her attention away from a low-voiced conversation with the women clustered around the end of the table long enough to nod and begin to herd everyone out of the room.

After the ladies had departed, the aged Headmaster turned a charming, amusement-filled smile on Harry. "You know Harry, in my younger days, I too owned a pair of leather trousers." The powerful mage smiled benignly as the younger wizard buried his head in his hands with a strangled groan. "Now, I would like to ask you about the unhealthy interest that all of the women in the room paid you when you walked in. Can I assume you noticed it?"

The green-eyed boy scrubbed his eyes behind the glasses and looked up at the robe-clad man pleadingly. "Please tell me that the rest of this conversation isn't going to involve birds and bees."

Dumbledore's brow gained a new wrinkle for a moment as he parsed that sentence, and then the room was filled with the Headmaster's laughter. "No, Harry. I will not cause you undue mental distress by doing anything like that." He paused to wipe a tear of laughter from his eyes before continuing. "I was just asking if you noticed how women who are normally much more reserved- like Professor McGonagall- were acting much differently than normal." After Harry's emphatic nod, he continued. "I believe that this is a side-effect of the problems with the ward we both experienced yesterday. I will give you a book that will give more detail on what I am trying to explain, but I will couch it in general terms for you now."

"I am a wizard of some skill and power, and being male and old, my magical aura has taken on a male... polarization. Only a slight one, but nevertheless it is there. You are young, male, and a wizard of great power and not a small amount of skill." The elder warlock nodded his head at Harry's embarrassment at the praise. "However, you have not been using magic for long enough, or- the storm at Privet Drive notwithstanding- in quantity enough to polarize your aura even slightly. However, your magical aura is very powerfully male. When we had our..." the Headmaster of Hogwarts looked faintly chagrined, "misunderstanding, you unconsciously tapped a bit of your magic and caused our auras to come in to contact. The effect of two powerful male auras interacting can be likened to mashing two powerful positively charged magnets together. Instead of flying across the room away from each other though, we experienced adverse physical reactions."

Harry could see why Dumbledore had been a popular professor- despite knowing nothing about magical aura polarization he thought he had a decent grasp of what the wizard was talking about. "Does that also explain the weird stuff I saw? Like my mu.." he trailed off and shut his eyes tightly for a moment. In a much rougher voice he asked, "I've been getting shakes in my hands since the end of school, and I've lost track of an hour or two. But I was shaking really bad during the... whatever it was that happened at the Dursley's, and again in the Hospital Wing. I can keep it from getting too bad if I calm myself down in most cases. Is that tied in to all this too?"

Dumbledore placed a hand under Harry's arm and lifted it, watching the slight quiver of the younger man's fingers with a worried frown, and after a moment of contemplation placed his gnarled but palsy-free hand over the boy's own. "No Harry, what happened there is not tied directly to a clash of our magical auras. We should have simply felt ill, or perhaps blacked out temporarily. Now that you bring that up, it is possible that what happened is the _cause_ of the polarization. That is part of what I have gathered the other professors here to determine."

Releasing Harry's hand, Dumbledore smoothed his robes and continued. "I do not know how your aura became so masculine, and I would not know it even now without having experienced it in the full flush of your anger. Tomorrow's testing will determine the real reasons behind it, and I will not worry you- or myself- with needless speculation." Lowering his voice, the Headmaster turned his eye to the door to ensure it was closed, and leaned in closer to Harry. "Until we find a way to neutralize some of the... _potency_ of the masculinity in your aura, you will find that witches- especially those who are older, powerful, or skilled- will subconsciously pick up on the male polarization rather like a pheromone. Thus the question about the interest that the women in the room showed you when you walked in."

The Boy-Who-Lived gaped at the older wizard. After what seemed like a minute of stunned silence he leaned forward and whispered hoarsely. "Do you mean to tell me that all of this- _weirdness- _caused them to look at me like a piece of meat? Please tell me this is just a big joke."

That damned twinkle was back in Dumbledore's eyes at full force. "I am sorry, Harry, but you are essentially correct. Please know that it is not a conscious decision to be affected on their part. There is a charm I will ask them to cast that will dampen the effects, however. I will ask all the women to cast it." Dumbledore smiled benignly as he walked to the door. "I'll leave you in peace for the rest of the night, Harry."

"Wait, Professor- you've talked about age, power and skill. Does that mean that Ginny and Hermione are really that powerful?"

Dumbledore stopped and turned slightly, drawing his half-moon glasses down the slope of his nose a bit. "Actually Harry, I think that would have more to do with your choice in trousers."

--

Harry trudged up the stairs, hurtling at the speed of a common ground sloth, not a teenager who had only spent the morning shopping. As he reached the landing on the second floor he had to lean against the banister for support while he yawned hugely. He turned sleepy green eyes on the flight of stairs to the third floor as Tonks, Hermione and Ginny made their way down. The lively conversation between the three stopped abruptly as the two Hogwarts students caught sight of him.

"Wotcher, Harry." Tonks' smile lacked the edge of lasciviousness that all of the womens' had earlier. The younger girls, walking slightly behind her, still sported the too-wide eyes that reminded him both of Luna Lovegood and a pair of russet and brown owls at the same time. The thought brought a little smile to his face that he covered with another yawn.

"Hey Tonks, Hermione, Ginny. I'm gonna put my things away and catch a nap until dinner." He paused in thought for a second, and turned to the red-haired girl who was gaping at him. "Are your mum and Ron around anywhere, Ginny?"

The youngest Weasley started suddenly as her brain started working. Her eyes roamed down his body before her mouth decided to take over. "Ron's... uh, in trouble, and mum's... at the Burrow, punishing him."

Harry frowned as he blinked sleepily. "What'd the git do?"

Ginny looked over at Hermione. "He, uh..."  
"Harry, you _know_ how Ron is when Viktor comes up in conversation. He was just... more expressive than usual." The bushy-haired witch looked a bit flustered, but some of the wildness in her eyes had left.

"Oh." Harry sighed, and paused as it morphed into another jaw-cracking yawn. "Okay, I need to catch that nap now. Tonks wore me out earlier." Smiling crookedly at the blushing girls and the chortling Auror, he made his way to the room.

Just as Harry opened the door and set foot inside, he was startled by a screech and attacked by a white blur.

"Hedwig! My God girl, are you alright?"

Harry dropped his bag unceremoniously to the floor as the snowy owl flapped around his head before landing on his shoulder and nipping at his ear. The wizard ran his hands through Hedwig's chest feathers as he scrabbled through his trunk for owl treats. "My God girl, things have been so crazy, I knew I had forgotten something important!" The owl hooted at him as if to argue the description of merely "important". "I guess coming back from hunting to a destroyed house was scary, huh?"

"I'm going to catch a nap, Hedwig. All this running around has wiped me out, and it's only noon! D'you want out, or are you sleeping yourself?" He smiled as the owl flapped over to the headboard and perched expectantly. "Sounds like a plan to me too." he mumbled, peeling off the tight leather trousers, before dumping the things on the floor and sliding beneath the sheets.

--

Dinner began as a much more sedate affair than Harry's arrival had been. Harry wasn't sure whether that could be attributed to whatever shielding charm Dumbledore had taught to the professors, the baggy cargo pants he wore, or simply because of Snape's presence at the dinner table- the man was the best mood killer known to Wizard or Mugglekind. Harry had no idea why the Order's spy had attended supper, but ever since the Potions professor had walked through the door, Harry had felt himself on guard and uneasy. Luckily, Professor Flitwick seemed more than happy to fill in all of the long silences.

"... so we have layered the charms in the room to allow us to magnify the magical readings if necessary. Now, because of the constant fluctuation of some magical aural signatures, I believe that something needs to be devised to allow capture and playback of those readings. At the moment, I hypothesize that taking the basic idea of the Flame-Freezing charm..."

"And why would anyone be worried with reading his aura? Obviously _Mister_ Potter had simply decided that he wanted attention and threw a tantrum; I see no reason to give him any more attention lest he try it again."

The kitchen had unsurprisingly gone silent, and Harry's irritation at Snape's mere presence had quickly escalated as the Potions professor spoke. By the end of the Snape's comments, Harry had grabbed the table edge firmly to quell the tremble of his arms. The greasy git was annoying at the best of times in class, but today for some reason even sharing the same air with the Order's spy was causing his hackles to rise. Reopening his closed eyes and letting out a breath, Harry looked up and made the mistake of looking at the sneer on the bastard's greasy face. Even without the use of Legilimency he could feel the hatred radiate from the man's form. He felt something primal rise within him and a rush of power sing through his body even as the palsy grew and he levered himself to his feet.

"Severus," Harry intoned, "are you really so stupid to continue to psychoanalyze me when you have not taken the time to understand me? To make judgments about what has happened to me? To assume I'm a spoiled attention-seeking fool like Lockhart? You would think that a Legilimens of _any_ skill who had been assigned to teach me would know what my motivations are after being in my head for the past year."

Ignoring the confused looks of everyone except Dumbledore, Harry continued in a low growl.

"But no, rather than looking around in my head at my childhood- or, God forbid, _teaching me Occlumency _like you were supposed to- you just busted in and raped my mind, leaving me with no defenses so that Voldemort could do anything he wanted to me. And despite the fact that you know that what you did lead to this, you still need to throw your two knuts in. Don't talk to me about wanting attention and throwing tantrums, _child._ Pull your greasy head out of your ass and _be silent, Snape."_

The tics had become so pronounced and painful as Harry's anger built that he was sure the smirk he wore looked more like the rictus grin of a tortured man, but the barbs flew true and the older man shot to his feet and snarled his fury as his wand slid into his hand. Harry took one shuddering breath and set his mind apart from his spasming body as he had read, and then locked eyes with Snape.

"_Legilimens!_"

The Slytherin Head's mental probe smashed through Harry's shields with effortless force. _Arrogant and useless, just like a Potter, _Snape's thought carried through to Harry's mind just as the green-eyed wizard brought his second set of mental shields around to hold the elder man's mind within a walled-off portion of his own.

_Mentalism: A Definitive Guide_ had helped Harry understand much about Occlumency that Snape had neglected to inform him. One interesting tidbit was that even a neophyte Occlumens could replay memories at will. The second interesting thing was that mental shields worked both ways- if it kept something out, it would also keep something in.

_Now let's look at how spoiled my childhood was, Snivellus, _Harry projected. As Harry replayed especially painful memories of his childhood, he felt the push that he now assumed was a male aura against his own, then a second, and a third moments later, bringing with it a high, piercing noise that set his brain rattling in his head. He could feel the Potions professor's mind thrash wildly against the bonds holding him within Harry's own mind even as he fed the older man memories of spiders crawling over him in the cupboard. As Harry ran Snape through a childhood of mental abuse, he was sure that only seconds had actually passed in the real world. A tonal increase in the background noise heralded a building resistance to the use of his magic along with the queasy feeling of the other male auras as they interfered.

_Now you bastard, let's finish this,_ Harry thought at the trapped mind. Rather than the memories of the mental abuses he had suffered at the Dursleys, Harry gave him a smorgasbord of the physical abuse they had inflicted on him.

Just as the memory of Dudley had reared back with the fireplace poker, Harry heard a "No, stop!" and felt an increase in the resistance- the memory slowed and stopped as a suffocating sensation distracted him enough to bring the outside world back into focus.

"-my God-"

"_-nul emer-_"

"-the hell is that noise?"

_No, dammit!_ Harry raged, and gathered his anger around him like a shield before forcing the smothering presence out, shunting the pain aside and reinforcing the memory that Snape was living. With an odd surge, Dudley's poker swung forward and Snape-as-Harry threw up a hand to protect his face. Harry heard two muffled snaps of breaking bone and two howls of pain, the older, deeper voice providing a horrible counterpoint to the young Harry's screams in his mind.

Dispensing with the formalities of having Snape live the memories one at a time, the young wizard dumped the rest of his abuse on Snape at once, and with the same odd surge and a hoarse scream he released his grip on the greasy man's mind and felt it snap back.

Harry's own mind snapped back to life as he collapsed bonelessly into his chair and watched with detached interest as the table stared at Snape's unconscious form laying half in his pudding. The Order's spy had an obviously broken arm and burned hand, and the green-eyed wizard was sure that a few of the cracked ribs Dudley so loved to inflict on him were hidden under his clothing.

As one, the wizards and witches around the table turned to regard the boy sitting at the end of the table. Drained as he was, Harry still noticed that as the women matched gazes with him their pupils dilated and they each took a deep breath as their cheeks colored.

"H-Harry." Dumbledore was pale and drawn, though noticeably better off than after the previous day's confrontation. "What in Merlin's name caused you to react like that?"

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. "The only reason I can give you is that I felt for a moment like I was being challenged for dominance, and I could not back down." Levering himself forward with a pained grunt, he picked up a glass of pumpkin juice with both shaking hands and swallowed greedily. "I also felt something fighting me, like it was trying to keep me from using magic, but it felt like it was trying to smother me. Was that something that you cast?"

Flitwick piped up with, "I tried a charm which attempted to nullify the polarization problem, but as I was only partially successful, I doubt that it was me you sensed."

The young man bobbed his head slowly as Madame Pomfrey and Fleur began to tend to the still form of Severus Snape. "I also heard someone yelling 'stop', but I shouldn't have been able to hear anything at that point. How was I able to hear whoever said that?"

Dumbledore exchanged a glance with Professor Flitwick. "Actually Harry, the whole thing happened so quickly I don't believe that anyone said stop. There were exclamations of surprise, perhaps, but not stop."

Harry looked blankly at the wizened man "So..."

"Perhaps you could tell me exactly how you were able to cause Severus' arm to break from a failed Legilimency attack. It is supposed to be impossible for such a defense to be possible."

Harry colored slightly as he refused to meet the older man's gaze. "Well, really he didn't fail in his attack, really, um..." Raising his eyes, he met Tonks' gaze as she smiled at him encouragingly. He sighed and raised still-shaky hands to rub behind his glasses. "Alright, have you read _Mentalism_ by Corvington?" At the elder's nod he continued, "In Chapter Eleven, there is a discussion of 'fall-back defenses' that you can erect if you know someone has breached your Occlumency shields. One of the ideas is using painful or humiliating memories as a kind of offensive measure.

Also, I was re-reading Chapter Two when the nature of the shields are discussed- the most basic of shields keeps you from getting in _or_ out- but they are more powerful internally than externally- they are what allow you block memories completely rather than only suppress them. Well, while I was crafting my mental defenses I created my regular shields, then a second set of much weaker shields that any decent Legilimens could break through. Finally, I created a layered curtain on the basic shields- since I would have the person in my own mind, the basic shield was much stronger at keeping them in, and laid them on top of the weak shields- they would come down and collar anyone who intruded. Honestly, I was hoping not to have to test them, but I assumed if anyone did it, it would have been Voldemort." Harry paused for the slight flinch that flittered around most of the table.

"So once Snape broke through the easy shields, the noose dropped over his Legimency projection, trapping him in my mind- but also trapping him against strong shields in both directions without the ability to retreat and regroup. If you can imagine the defenses making a bowl-shape, you can see how I was able to project memories onto him without his being able to escape."

Dumbledore met his gaze with a look Harry couldn't quite place. "Harry, if what you did can be reproduced by other wizards, you will have invented perhaps the most powerful type of Occlumency defense known." He ran a hand through his beard absently as the mediwitches fussed over the unconscious professor. "And possibly a very dangerous one. Now, there have been defenses that approximate what you have done, but they lacked the way to trap a mind and force them to be affected by memories, not to mention other things that could happen if you have a trapped mind at your mercy."

Harry had begun massaging his temples to try and manage the headache that Snape's mental thrashings had caused. He was so focused on his pounding head and Dumbledore's enthusiastic, if oddly timed, discussion that he didn't even start at the second pair of warm hands that began soothing the ache in his head.

"Well Professor, I'd like to say that it was hard, but really, the more I read, the more it made sense." Harry gave a rueful smile. "Haven't finished the book though, so I might've missed the part where they tell you that it's impossib-_oooh."_

The table froze as Harry trailed off into an almost-feline purr, and all eyes (save the still-unconscious Snape) turned to him. Harry himself had frozen for a moment as his mind caught up to his mouth, then tilted his head back until he came eye-to-eye with Tonks, who winked and crinkled her nose at him.

"Cor, Harry. Thought it'd help, but I didn't think it'd help _that_ much."

The seated wizard felt his cheeks flame red even as he gave her a lopsided smirk. Seconds later he hooded his eyes and sucked in a breath as Tonks' fingers dug in to a tense spot on his neck. "Ahhh, yeah." he rumbled quietly.

Someone near the end of the table huffed indignantly and Harry colored a shade darker as he heard Dumbledore ask a question about Snape, only to receive a curt reply from Fleur. Tonks' gaze never left his own, and there was still a warm smile on her face.

Breaking eye contact as something clattered, Harry watched as Severus Snape emerged from his food dripping and groggy. Throwing off the attentions of Madame Pomfrey and Fleur, Snape's head wobbled as if lacking a spine, but the beady-eyed gaze finally settled on Harry. He stared owlishly for a moment, then struggled to his feet and pointed with his good arm.

"Imposter! _I_ am Harry Potter!"

Harry dimly felt like this should be hilariously funny, but he decided that he was simply too tired to care. Shaking his head gently, he murmured, "No, you're Severus Snape."

The Head of Slytherin House grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled it in front of his eyes and blew out an explosive breath. The man's shoulders slumped as the burst of energy he displayed disappeared. In a very small voice he asked to be escorted to a room and was helped out by Madame Pomfrey.

As soon as the two figures had left the room, Fleur was attending to Harry. Brushing Tonks away she began a scan of his well-being using wand and hands. She murmured to herself quietly in French for a moment before announcing that he should "be in 'is bed, _immédiatement_!" The pronouncement almost caused a stampede before Fleur whisked him out of the kitchen and up the stairs so quickly that Harry believed she apparated. It was only after being ushered into a room that he noticed where she had taken him.

"Fleur, this isn't my room. This is- was- Sirius' room." Harry swallowed thickly and blinked away a sheen of tears from seeing the careless rumple of the sheets and all the little signs that Sirius had been living there.

"But 'arry, _Seigneur_ Black made you 'is 'eir, _non_? Where will you sleep ozerwise?"

"I am sleeping in the room I shared with Ron, not here." Harry damned himself for the stilted way he spoke as much as for the small tremble in his voice.

"But 'ar-ee, I'm zhure zat _Seigneur_ Black would 'ave wanted you to take ze room- 'arry!"

Harry ignored the cry of the French witch as he ran a hand across the bed, silent tears falling down his face. He looked up at her and she paused with a hand outstretched toward him. "Sirius was my godfather, he was my family, he was... I don't know if I there's a word for how much he meant to me. I know he's gone, I know we only got to know each other for a short time, but he's still all the real family I've ever had. Looking at all this stuff just makes me think of how little time we had, and how much I wanted to sit in here and have us talk and.." he trailed off as Fleur bridged the gap between them and took the slightly-shorter boy into her arms as she settled on the bed.

"God, Fleur, he was all the hope I _had_ of a real life. Not the Dursleys, not wizarding pictures of my parents to move and smile and break my heart, but a real flesh-and-blood godfather who loved me and thought of me as family. How could the one thing I've wanted my entire life be the one thing that gets taken from me so soon?" Harry's voice was muffled against her shoulder, but despite the dampness that soaked through her robes, he made no noise other than his speech.

"'arry dear, I'm zo zorry. I didn't think 'ow much your godfather meant to you. I- no 'arry, 'ush- I was theeking wit' my- eh, I wazent theeking right. What I did was selfish. I wanted you alone, and I 'urt you," the blonde witch whispered.

Raising his head, Harry removed his glasses and wiped his eyes with the tail of his shirt. Before replacing them, Harry looked up to meet her eyes with his own viridian orbs and gave Fleur a soft, sad smile. "I'm sorry, I know that Sirius is gone, but I can't seem to convince myself that I won't see him bounding through the door one day." Sliding his frames back into their place on his nose, he cocked his head at the witch's look. "I'm sorry Fleur, I didn't mean-"

"_Mon Dieu, _'arry, don't apologize. You can talk wit' me anytime you need." Blushing demurely, the quarter-veela cupped her hands around the back of Harry's head and pulled him forward, planting a lingering kiss on his cheek, right at the edge of his lips. As she moved back he could see Fleur's more professional persona come to the fore. "Come, you _do_ need your rest, so let uz get you into bed downstairs, _d'accord?_"

"Thanks, but I think I'll spend a few minutes in here remembering Sirius. You're right, Sirius would probably want me to use his room, but for now I just want to sit in here and remember him." Seeing her incredulous look, the raven-haired boy gave another sad smile and offered his hand to assist Fleur to her feet. "Maybe this way I can finally be at peace with what happened and can move on like he'd want me to." As the mediwitch-in-training began to open her mouth, Harry placed his finger across it. "Trust me, Fleur. Even though I'm tired I won't collapse, and I need to start getting over this if I'm going to be here for the rest of the summer. I can't break down every time I see something that reminds me of Sirius. That's no way to live." He guided her to the door, but paused as he opened it. "Will you be here tomorrow when they start the testing?"

The formerly-haughty part-veela sported a maiden's blush on her cheeks as she smiled at him. "_Oui._ _Madame_ Pomfrey an' I are going to be 'ere for medical support." Her smiled turned a bit feral as she added, "Not zat you seem to need ze 'elp. _Monsieur_ Snape, on ze ozer 'and..." The birdlike sharpness of her face relaxed once again, and she opened the door. "I will see you in the morning, 'arry. Be well, _d'accord?"_

Nodding, Harry closed the door and rested his head against the cool wood. _What in the hell was that? Thinking with her what, wanting to get me alone? She must've not cast whatever spell that Professor Dumbledore taught them._ Puffing out a breath, he crossed over to the bed and sat down. "If you were here you'd never let me live this down, would you? This'd give you joking material for years, I'm sure." After a pause, Harry blinked his eyes slowly and lay down while dangling his legs off the side of the bed. _I miss you Sirius, but I can't be like this forever._

He wasn't sure if he rested for a minute or an hour, but after a time he levered himself up and began looking at all of the things that remained in the bedroom. One slim armoire of a plain, dark wood caught his attention simply by the lack of ornamentation. Harry opened the simple latch and parted the doors, shivering slightly at the rush of cool air that escaped from it. He furrowed his brow when the light hit the contents and couldn't help but look closer. That closer look caused him to laugh. _Leave it to Sirius to have something like this in his room._

Instead of a clothes closet, Harry had opened a Wizarding wine cabinet- although rather than normal sized bottles, they were all miniature. Picking one at random, he pulled it out only to fumble and almost drop it as it expanded to a more standard size after being removed.

"Good God, is this firewiskey? Hrm, label says it's almost three hundred years old!"

"That'll put a fire in the soul, Harry."

Harry spun towards the voice, almost dropping the bottle yet again. "Ah! Tonks, God, don't _do_ that!"

The crimson-tressed Auror smirked at him. "Oh, so I sneak pretty well for someone who barely passed the stealth exams at the Academy?"

Smirking, Harry relaxed and stuck his tongue out at her. "Maybe, but don't bet on it."

Tonks plucked the bottle from the boy's hands and looked it over with a low whistle. "I generally stick to butterbeer myself, but I've picked up a bit from Kingsley- he's a real connoisseur. If this is what I think it is, he'd probably offer his soul for a glass. It's supposed to be magical."

"Erm, maybe I'm being a Muggle here Tonks, but firewiskey's magical anyhow- I don't think any normal liquor makes you snort fire and blow smoke."

The woman let her hair shift into a flame pattern of reds and oranges as she gave a braying laugh. "No, a really good firewiskey is pretty powerful stuff. I've heard that the best sets your soul on fire- in a good way, though."

Harry _hrmph_ed. "I don't need to be trying any of that out at the moment- I was just curious as to what was in the closet." He took a half-step back so Tonks could look. "I wonder if all of the bottles are like this." Sliding the original bottle back, he smiled as it shrunk to fit. "So what brings you up here?"

"I couldn't find you and wanted to see if your virtue had survived that damned veela."

The dark haired boy rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. "My virtue? What am I, a fair maiden? All Fleur and I did was talk. No big deal."

Harry watched as the fiery locks of Tonks' hair gained a slight green tinge. "When she left with Pomfrey she had a smile that I didn't like the looks of on her face."

"Um, Tonks? Are you sure this isn't brought on by the whole aura polarization thing? I mean, Fleur was acting weird and all, but I'm sure I can handle myself until the professors figure out what's going on with me."

"I hope you're right, Harry." She paused a moment as if weighing her words, then spoke again. "Have you decided what you're going to do about Sirius' will and the Black family name?"

Harry cocked an eyebrow at the apparent non sequitur, as well as the fact that Tonks ignored the first question. "I'm going to do it. Dunno what the name'll be, but I will not refuse what Sirius has asked of me and given me. The will reading should probably be done soon as possible as well. No reason to put it off just because I've been weepy anymore."

"Oh, Harry." For once since entering the room, he wasn't the one with tears glistening in his eyes. The fire-haired Auror sniffled and ground a toe into the floorboards until Harry spread his arms uncertainly, then threw herself at him. "Maybe we should both get out of here before we get any more maudlin." Neither of them could stifle a bit of a chuckle at that, though one was a bit wet. The metamorphmagus shrunk a bit to fit under Harry's arm, and they began making their way back to the second floor in comfortable silence.

Harry had just spied the door to his room when a girlish giggle echoed from behind the door that Hermione and Ginny shared. He would have passed by without comment, but a shriek of laughter caused Tonks to veer off and put her ear against the door. Shrugging, Harry followed suit.

"'_-ister _Potter, are those _leather?'_ The woman could be his _grandmother_, but she was eyeing him like prime beef!"

"You have to admit he did look very... un-Harrylike in those trousers, though."

"Well, of _course_ I noticed- and so did every witch in the room! That wannabe-mediwitch obviously wanted to play doctor with him. Ooh, that little French-"

"Whoa, calm down. Look, even Madame Pomfrey looked like she was about to perform surgery to get those things off him."

Harry buried his head in his hands and the girls broke down in a fit of giggles interspersed with a round of bad impersonations of the female professors. He could hear and see Tonks muffle a laugh against her fist from slightly below him. Just as he was about to turn away, though, the room got quiet.

"Do you think we should come clean to Harry about Ron before he finds out?"

"Merlin, I don't know what I was thinking about when I told Harry that Ron was in trouble."

"Don't worry Ginny. Harry has enough on his mind; we don't want to make it worse. He'll be caught up in all of the experimentation that the professors are doing, and we can drop information about it like we just found out ourselves. Besides, you said that Ron should be fine in a week or two, right?"

"Wha-!" Harry blurted. At the sudden silence, he clapped a hand over his mouth. Grabbing Tonks, he rushed down to his door and hustled them both inside before quickly- but silently- shutting it behind them.

"What'd they mean about Ron, Tonks?" the green-eyed boy growled harshly into her ear.

"I don't know, Harry. I spent most of the day with you, and they didn't talk about anything except your trousers when I was around."

Frowning, Harry gave a rumbling growl that caused the still-shortened woman to stiffen. "I need to know how my best mate's really doing. I could sneak out and Floo over to the Burrow-"

"I can do it, Harry. I have to head back to my flat anyhow, so I can pop in and see how he's doing."

Harry let out a breath and crushed the metamorphagus in an embrace. "Thanks a million Tonks. 'm glad I can trust you."

The junior Auror made no reply other than a muffled squeak.

Tonks had to leave shortly thereafter, but not before Harry had dispatched Hedwig to the Burrow to carry the message back from Tonks. While he was waiting for the return flight of the snowy owl, however, he fell into a troubled sleep.

--

Author's Notes:

This is a (slightly) edited version of the original Chapter 3. Most of the meat of the story has stayed the same, but after writing Chapter 4, I wanted to correct things that seemed badly-written the first time.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry sighed and scrubbed his eyes wearily. When Dumbledore had explained what was needed of him at breakfast that morning, he had decided that out of all the participants, he had the easiest job- simply stand or sit in the center of the magical circle and let the others cast their spells.

Three hours later, the only participant not casting spells seemed to be the person most drained by the experience. The ritual circle throbbed in counterpoint with his heartbeat and Flitwick's piping voice slashed through his concentration like a knife thrust. He hadn't even notice that the professors had taken a break until a soft hand cupped his cheek.

"'arry?"

Harry looked up into the concerned eyes of Fleur Delacoeur and gave a wan smile. "'m just tired, Fleur."

The quarter-veela gave him a suspicious look, but dropped the subject after he gave her a more composed smile. Instead, she turned and dantily picked her way past the various runes that comprised the ritual floor. Once she was back with the professors and Tonks, the Charms professor raised his wand again. "Ready, Mister Potter?"

"Sure." Harry mumbled tiredly as the pounding began again.

--

Sometime later the assembled adults stopped their spellcasting with weary sighs.

At Headmaster Dumbledore's bidding, Harry made his way to the edge of the double circle, careful not to disturb the various runes and Arithmantic equasions scribbled within. As he moved to step out of the circle, his foot encountered resistance, slowing as if pushing against a mattress. He looked up to the confused eyes of the professors, Madame Pomfrey, Fleur, and Tonks.

"Um, a little help, please?" he asked.

The apprentice mediwitch and the auror hurried forward to grab his arms and pull him across the plane of the barrier. Curiously, neither witch had any problem putting their arms across the barrier themselves. With their help, he was slowly pulled through, struggling all the way.

Once his head broke through the other side, gravity reasserted itself and the green-eyed boy took a couple of stumbling steps forward.

"What in the world-" was all he could get out before being tackled from behind by the two young witches. Seemingly with one mind they divested him of his shirt and had begun clawing at his jeans when three other female voices screamed "Stupefy!".

As Tonks and Fleur slumped unconscious at his side, Harry blew out a breath. "Good God. Than-"

Once again, panic set in as this time the three older witches looked at him with naked lust written on their faces.

Before he could take more than a step back, the redoubtable Professor Flitwick had stunned McGonagall, Vector, and Pomfrey.

Shaky and pale, Harry fell to his knees. Without all the commotion, the pounding he had believed was the ritual circle reasserted itself, leaving him feeling drained and weak. He tried to regain control of himself, but it seemed as if someone was brushing his attempts at control aside. He shifted and almost fell over Tonks, his hand slamming into the unconscious Auror's back. As he did, his out-of-control magic eased, and his shakes lessened. He looked up at the paired faces of the professors still conscious. "I think," he began, forcing a calm evenness to his tone, "I need a few minutes."

Dumbledore's eyes still managed to twinkle a bit as he gave the younger man a hand up. "Excellent idea, Harry. I will let you know when lunch is ready."

After making his way through the door, Harry stumbled into the far wall before forcing himself upright. Feeling as if he was cursed to be perpetually tired and involved in weird happenings, he made it to his bed moments before passing out.

--

Lunch was a dismal affair, made more so when Flitwick and Vector explained their findings from the morning's exploration. The Arithmancy professor explained- without meeting Harry's eyes- that the spell resisted most of the identification charms used, so many of the observations were made by watching how it didn't react. It covered Harry like a second skin, hiding detailed information within the corona of Harry's own magical signature. They could date the casting to within a half-year of that fateful Halloween night, and unlike normal, non-externally powered spells, the ward seemed to be just as powerful- if not more- than when it had been cast.

The joyless mood was not helped by Tonks' and Fleur's sniping. The two younger witches sat on either side of him and had spent the meal shooting each other dirty looks and making veiled insults. He half expected them to start a catfight with him in the middle! Finally, though, he could take it no longer.

"Both of you need to stop. Now." Harry growled, placing a hand on both their arms. As he made contact with their skin, a powerful, blissful wave of serenity nearly caused him to slide bonelessly from his seat. Both women snatched their hands away as if stung.

"What in the bloody hell was that?" the three gasped, startled.

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth to scold the three for language, but the diminutive Charms Professor interjected instead.

"Incredible! I had kept a magic-viewing spell up, and when you three made contact, the ward flared to life and grew stronger." A bittersweet smile crossed his face as he continued. "And as it flared, Lily Potter's face appeared over Mister Potter's head."

Not surprisingly, chaos broke out among the professors and Harry at that point as to what that meant.

After quite a bit of discussion and emotion- and little useful information- Dumbledore caught Harry's attention and spoke softly. "Don't read too much into this until we have a better chance to study the situation, Harry. Remember what I told you in your first year when your touch effected Quirrel."

The dark-haired wizard stared at the aged man before closing his eyes and taking a deep, slow breath. "Thank you, Headmaster. You're right."

Kindly blue eyes lacked their customary twinkle as they met green. "This is simply a suggestion, but you may wish to use this time to get some peace and quiet. Professors Flitwick and Vector will likely be discussing this for hours more."

Sparing a glance at the two, Harry had to agree. Both teachers were spitting rapid-fire ideas at each other almost too fast to follow. The Arithmancy professor was making a point by wand-writing against the wall, and Flitwick was gesturing wildly while speaking in his piping voice. The rest of the inhabitants of the kitchen were paying rapt attention to the two.

"Yeah, you're right." Quietly he slipped out of the kitchen and made his way to the first-floor drawing room. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice his departure in the cacophony. Unfortunately, the room he entered was inhabited by a glowering dungeon-vulture named Severus Snape.

The Potions Master looked up when the door creaked, and their eyes locked. Harry felt the faint pressure of a Legilimency probe touch his outer defenses before it was hastily withdrawn and the older wizard actually cringed back.

"Come to gloat, Potter?" he asked hollowly.

The younger wizard scowled at the implied insult. "No, Professor." He paused for a moment and felt the faint stirrings of triumph at how defeated the man looked, but the more he thought about it, the more disgusted he felt for being proud of what he had done. "I didn't mean to intrude." He stepped back into the hallway and began to pull the door to when Snape's voice stopped him.

"Potter- _Mister _Potter." The Potions Professor's voice was oddly neutral.

Harry stepped back into the room and shut the door softly. In all of the dimly-remembered revenge fantasies he had, he thought a time like this would fill him with a triumphant joy. Instead, he just felt bitter that the whole of the Potter-Black-Snape hatred had come to this.

"Was… was everything you showed me true?"

Harry sat down in a wingback chair, keeping a respectable distance from Snape.

"Yes, professor."

The short, blunt answer seemed to rock the other man.

"You knew nothing of your heritage, your parents?" The longhaired man asked, bewildered.

"I was a 'freak', and told that my parents were worthless wastes of space killed by a drunk driver."

The older man hunched in on himself. "So that first day of class-"

"I hadn't even had a chance to study my potions text, much less have a family I could have watched brew potions. I certainly didn't know anything about things that we wouldn't learn until halfway through the year."

Snape's eyes bulged as he blew out a breath. "Whenever I see you, I see your father and Black and the pranks they played on me. I hated them, hated their popularity, hated any time they outperformed me in classes, and absolutely despised that I ended up owing your father a life debt. The fact that it passed to you, who look so very much like him disgusted me all the more."

"Professor- " Harry interjected, "-I don't understand the life-debt passing from my father to me."

Severus Snape stared at the boy sitting in the chair opposite him for a moment before shaking his head and mumbling to himself.

"I suppose you wouldn't know, and no one your age would think to have taught you. I owed your father a debt for saving my life. I could only have discharged it by doing something of equal value- saving his life, or that of one of his loved ones. He also could have simply released me-" he held up a hand to forestall any comment, "but releasing someone from something that important would be seen as a slight on their character, a belief that they could never do something worthwhile. Life debts pass from parent to child on both sides of the debt. When your father died and I was unable to help him, my debt fell to you, and due to the circumstances of you freeing me from the Dark Lord for over a decade, my debt only increased."

Harry frowned. "But you saved me from being thrown off my broom first year."

"I am a Professor of Hogwarts and was acting as such- it didn't count."

"That seems unnecessarily complicated."

The Potions Master grimaced. "Complicated or not, something like that could save your life one day."

The Boy-Who-Lived scowled into the fireplace. "I can't understand the mechanics of life debts, how will I understand being a Lord?  
Snape's head whirled to face Harry, long greasy locks flying. "Black actually did that?" At Harry's sullen nod, the threw back his head and cackled disturbingly. When he had finished, he explained. "Making you heir over Draco will infuriate the entire Malfoy family and cause the Dark Lord to be most displeased. I know he has wanted to get his hands on some of the artifacts and books in the ancestral holdings, not to mention the money."

Harry had to smirk at that. "At least something good will come out of this."

Snape's smile was feral. "Oh, yes." He relaxed back into the couch and leveled a gaze at Harry that was, for once, neither malicious or hate-filled.

"Mister Potter, if you need advice on what your responsibilities are as a Lord of your family, I can offer advice." Again, an upheld hand forestalled comment. "I will admit that the advice will be ruthless, almost Dark, and will gain you no friends. I will be honest about the pitfalls, however. It is the least I can do to begin to repay the debt I owe you. Nothing will repay the debt I owe your father."

Harry sat and considered the offer fully for a few minutes before he nodded. "I would appreciate that, Professor. I do not promise that I will take your advice, but the offer is welcome." Smirking, Harry continued, "And while we're being all touchy-feely-" Snape winced and looked almost ill,"-can you tell me why Dumbledore's eyes twinkle when he used Legilimency, and yours gleam slightly?"

"You noticed?"

"Just recently, yes. I do not know how to use Legilimency myself, but I can now detect it easily."

It was Severus' turn to look thoughtful. "If you could assist me with rebuilding my shields, I will answer your question."

"Deal."

--

When Harry poked his head into the kitchen later, only McGonagall and the Headmaster were left. Professor Dumbledore waved him in. "Ah, Harry. The ladies adjourned to somewhere else, and the other professors left on an errand."

Sitting across the table from his Head of House, he was pleased to note that she looked calm and in control. "Professors." He smiled and nodded as Dumbledore conjured a teacup for him. "Did anything come out of the revelation at lunch?"

"Yes Harry. In fact, Filius has left to acquire another professor to assist us further."  
"Headmaster, do you really think it's a good idea to bring non-Order people here? Doesn't that break the secret?"

The aged wizard smiled. "Constant Vigilence, Mister Potter? Actually, I am not telling the other professors anything. A portkey brings them here, and once here they are unlocateable, and cannot find the place themselves- if they walked outside, the house would disappear once the left the stoop- and their minds will forget any landmarks as well."

Harry blinked. "I see why the Fidelus is so powerful. So who else is being called in?"  
"Professor Trelawney." McGonagall grumbled.

Harry made a face and looked to Dumbledore. "For what?"

"When your mother gave you the ward that protects you, we are conjecturing that a part of her soul was embedded in it, giving it greater power, as well as the ability to grow and adapt. Professor Trelawney is a powerful medium, and will attempt to contact the soul fragment and determine what the problem is."

Looking over his half-moon glasses, Dumbledore spoke gravely. "Remember that what she will contact- should this work, of course- will not be Lily Potter. It will simply be a fragment of her personality, possibly with only rudimentary speech skills and knowledge."

Clasping the teacup tightly, the boy's green eyes met with both adults'. "Thank you for the warning professor. It'll be hard, though, to be so close to something connecting me to my mum." He sighed and forced himself to relax. "When will this happen?"  
Professor McGonagall pursed her lips disapprovingly. "Whenever feels right to her. Channeling spirits is more feeling than theory. She'll likely consult some tea leaves first."

"Minerva." Dumbledore chided gently.

The Deputy Headmistress frowned. "I simply do not like the idea of discovering the source of Mister Potter's problems hinging on the summoning of a spirit!"

Even Dumbledore had nothing to say to that.

--

It was just Harry's luck that Trelawney believed that the 'the stars were in perfect harmony' to perform the same day.

Harry approached the séance with a calm mind behind full Occlumency shields. Having had a chance to finally speak with Tonks and get filled in more than the note she had dashed off from the Burrow settled his mind. Hermione and Ginny had been recalled to the Burrow at Tonks' suggestion, and most important of all, Ron _was_ recovering from the brain attack at the Department of Mysteries. There were details to be concerned over, of course, but he knew that he'd have a talk with the youngest Weasley son soon, and with that off of his mind, it was easier to clear his mind and do his damnedest to keep his thoughts off the woman sharing the space in the middle of the ward circle.

Professor Sybill Trelawney had apparently donned her best robes for the occasion- it seemed as though half of their mass was comprised of bells and frills and symbols dangling from the edges. Not to mention all of the 'focusing crystals' she was wearing as jewelry- they were quartz that looked fresh-plucked from the ground. That would be ugly enough, but for the fact that apparently the Diviniation Professor's skills at contacting the spirit world were enhanced by the thick braid her hair had been pulled back in, tight enough that her eyes bulged from their sockets.

Running through his calming exercises once more, Harry finally brought his attention back to the present. Trelawney was nattering on about astral-something-or-another, chakra-blah-blah, but she trailed off as Professors Flitwick and Vector got everyone's attention.

"Mister Potter, Professor Trelawney will attempt to contact the spirit once we have brought the wards up. We do not know how aware the soul will be after being part of the spell construct- it is possible that it will be incapable of communication, and equally possible that it is fully capable of memory retention and speech. Please let us ask a few questions first to determine what- and who- we're working with before you speak."

The raven-haired boy nodded solemnly. "I understand, Professor." His Occlumency barriers were so strong that all feeling had been leached from his voice.

For all that her appearanace reminded him of a phone-scam psychic he had seen on the telly, Trelawney was admirably sane-acting after the surrounding professors (plus Tonks, Madame Pomfrey, and Fleur) had activated the wards. Using her wand like a dowsing rod, she had found the 'seat' of his mother's spell- unsurprisingly, his scar- placed and hand on it, and began speaking in a language he did not understand.

A minute passed, and he believed at first that nothing would happen, but he began to notice a feeling of lightness and freedom- restraints lifted from his soul. The woman attempting to contact his mother's spirt had her brows furrowed in concentration, the gibberish interspersed with calling his mother's name. He rolled his eyes upward to look at where she was touching his scar, but looked back down as he heard his name being spoken by the Diviniation teacher.

"Harry, break the connection!"

Snapping his head back, Harry was blinded by a silent flash of light, overbalanced when flinching, and fell clumsily on his back. He dimly heard the sound of a body hitting the ward-wall and striking the floor. He panicked for a moment before scrubbing his eyes and beginning to get his sight back. As the grey haze drained away, and he turned to see the professor slumped agains the invisible wall, twitching her fingers and legs softly.

"Sybill?" Professor Vector called out.

The figure stirred and clambered to her feet unsteadily, appearing drunk. She pushed aside the strands of her hair that had escaped from its plait. Removing the coke-bottle glasses and rubbing her eyes vigorously, she mumbled something low. When she looked up, Harry- for the first time- looked into eyes the color of his own.

His mother's eyes.

"Harry?" Trelawney whispered, in a voice not her own.

--

(AN: I really wanted to end the chapter here, but it'd be _way_ too damned short.)

--

The teenaged wizard could hear gasps from the professors behind him. "Oh my God, my baby! Mummy loves you _so much!"_ she cried, and Harry found himself squashed against the professor's bosom as she grabbed him. "Mummy loves her little boy! She's missed you horribly!"

Despite knowing better- the odd, frumpy woman holding him and sobbing was _not_ his mother, green eyes or no- the young wizard still felt tears leak from his eyes at the sound of a voice he had heard only in fragmented dreams and Dementor-induced visions. "Mum." he rasped hoarsely. "Hello, Mum."

After a few moments of wonder, Harry tried to break free to compose himself, but the Diviniation Professor's slim arms held him tightly. She whispered something into his hair and he felt a wonderfully warm blanket cover him. For the first time he could consciously remember, he felt safe and loved. He vaguely heard Dumbledore's voice call Lily's name and her response. He was only half-aware as the professors' voices spoke for a time, gradually becoming raised. He did notice and frown as something skittered along the skin of his abs. Something...

Harry's eyes snapped into focus as something probed his Occlumency defenses. The probe radiated warning, but did not attempt to breach his wards. The soft, high-pitched whine told him that the intruder was male- and very powerful.

Forcing the intruder from his mind, the Boy-Who-Lived took stock of his situation. His face was still crammed in Trelawney's cleavage, but more disturbingly, one of her hands was lazily tracing its way down his stomach towards his waist. His _bare_ stomach, as his shirt had been pulled up to his shoulders. Taking advantage of the surge of adrenalin that flooded his body at _that_ sick revelation, Harry yanked his head down and out of the woman's grasp and moved back a big step.

Sybill Trelawney, apparently channeling the spirit of Lily Potter, had her lips curled in a sneer at the watching professors, but when she turned to fix her gaze on him, all traces of the anger faded. "Harry, baby, what's wrong? Don't push Mummy away, she can make you feel _much better._"

Harry flinched back from the witch's tone. "My mother would never talk like that to me."

"Your mummy loves you, Harry-baby. She's just trying to show you now that she's here." The woman smiled and stepped closer with a twist of her hips. As she touched his arm, Harry felt something wrap around him again, muffling his senses and worming its way past his Occlumency defenses without rousing them. This time, he took a step back before he could be snared.

"You are not my mother." The black-haired boy stated coldly.

Harry pulled his wand and began the counter-chant as he had been instructed to use in an emergency. The posessed witch lunged at him and he was only just able to move his wand from the path of her grasping hand and roll, fetching up against the ward circle. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?" he growled.

Trelawney's body licked her lips and smiled. "Your _real_ mummy only needs your body, not your wand, dear."

Keeping his wand low and protected Harry inched around the circle. The spell that Flitwick and Trelawney had taught him would sever any connection between the ward-spirit and the Diviniation Professor, but it would take too long to cast- his wand would be snapped before he finished. He hoped that the professors could drop the spells holding them in, but doing that without ending Trelawney's posession could allow the sprit to take permanent posession of the Diviniation professor, something McGonagall had warned about.

As the two of them circled each other in the magical cage, Harry felt something tickle the back of his mind. He attempted a stunner, only to dive to the side as Trelawney charged him, and reversed their positions. Now able to see the teachers, he spared a glance to see Dumbledore gesturing and the elder wizard's eyes sparkle, just as a Legilimency probe brushed his defenses. Lowering his mental defenses enough to let Dumbledore through, he felt the master Legilimencer shove a packet of information into his brain. Harry paused as his mind tried to digest all the information and only his reflexes kept him out of the reach of Trelawney's next dive.

The Boy-Who-Lived was trying to sort through everything Dumbledore had done. The information the older man had given him contained thoughts, plans, memories, spells...

Harry sheathed his wand but continued edging away from the woman. "Why are you doing this, mummy?" he asked in a frightened child's voice.

Lily's host body had tears coming from her eyes. "I just want to keep you safe, my little baby boy."

"But mummies don't chase their sons like this," he whined, "You're scaring me!"

Lily's eyes teared up. "Harry, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you like that." She relaxed slightly as Harry did the same. "Mummy's so sorry, how about a hug to show you how sorry I am."

Harry sighed and spread his arms uncertainly. "Really?"

"Oh yes baby! Can we stop fighting now?"  
Harry smiled a bit stiffly. "Sure, mum."

"Ooh, Harrykins!" The older woman squealed. She rushed forward to embrace him only to be stopped short by Harry's double palm strike to her solar plexus. The Boy-Who-Lived's eyes blazed in fury as he bellowed a short phrase in an ancient tongue.

Whatever the spell's origin, the results were spectacular. A semi-translucent shape was blasted out of Trelawney's back and rebounded against he magical ward-wall with enough force to shower everyone inside with sparks. The Diviniation Professor coughed and choked for a moment before looking up at him with muddy brown eyes.

"Mister Potter?"

Not taking his gaze from the ghostly form now taking shape in front of them, he nodded. "Get behind me and stay there."

The spirit of Lily Potter hovered a yard away, her face twisted in madness before flying towards them, trying to re-enter Trelawney's body. Harry intoned a single word, right hand upraised with ring and pinky folded, and the figure reeled back as the wards groaned against the pressure. The spell he had cast would keep the spirit from posessing anyone, and contained- temporarily. He spared a glance at Dumbledore and watched the aged wizard send Tonks and Fleur running from the room before turning to him. The two wizard's eyes met again, and a quick conversation passed between them. The younger man's eyes hardened, and he once again submerged himself behind his Occlumency techniques.

Holding his hands half a foot apart and parallel to his body, he began chanting in a language he did not understand. A translucent cage formed in between his palms and began glowing brightly. Lily Potter's spirit stopped trying to attack and quickly put as much space as was possible between itself and Harry. Nevertheless, the phantasm was sucked- clawing and with its mouth open in a voiceless scream- into the cage of light that Harry held.

"Now!" Dumbledore bellowed.

Professors Flitwick and Vector quickly dismantled the wards as Dumbledore cast spells all of the women in the room. Just as he turned to ask Harry a question, Tonks and Fleur burst back through the doors, and he turned to examine the items in their hands.

"Harry, how long?" he asked without lifting his head.

"As long as I maintain minimal concentration at this rate." the calm tones of the Boy-Who-Lived replied.

Dumbledore looked up quickly and a proud look creased his aged face. "Excellent, my boy."

The Headmaster quickly finished sorting through the items and made his way to Harry with gemstones in hand.

"We have two options, Harry. We can dismiss the spirit to its rest, or we can bind it and attempt to reestablish the ward with it later."

The boy wizard remained silent as he stared at the glowing cage between his hands. After a minute- perhaps two- he opened his mouth.

"Release her." Trelawney's voice croaked. She had remained cowered behind the Gryffindor student, and only now took a shaky step from sheltering behind him. "She- her spell- has protected you, but she is insane now. The ward now stifles your mental and magical growth rather than protect you."

"Sybill, are you sure of this?" Dumbledore's voice carried a bit of his magic behind it that the still slightly muzzy Diviniation professor responded to automatically.

"Yes. The spirit has few memories before Harry's birth, but her entire existence is focused on him. She alternately sees him as a defenseless baby, using the ward-magic to revert him back to that state, or she desires him as a sexual creature, punishing him whenever he shows desires towards a female."  
Dumbledore's eyes blazed into the smaller woman's. "Is that all?"

"She drains the magical power of witches he comes into contact with when the ward power drops too low. Her attempts to counteract the advancements Harry has shows in Occlumency, as well as his magical maturity caused the seizure-like episodes he experienced earlier this summer. The conflict between the ward's spell aura and his own caused the lightning strike." The professor's eyes were empty and locked on Dumbledore as words poured from her mouth.

Harry and Dumbledore exchanged a meaningful glance. "I told no one of your hands, Harry."

The shorter man nodded. "Dismissal will be the Blessing of Azura Mazda?" he asked tonelessly.

Placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, Dumbledore spoke quietly. "I will perform the rite, Harry."

Green eyes returned to the figure trapped between his hands as he nodded once, slowly.

The Supreme Mugwump of the Confederation of Sorcerers put aside his barmy old man persona as he crushed a diamond with a flick of his wand. His movements were efficient and fast as he used the dust to trace the appropriate symbols on the ground, before gesturing Harry to position the caged sprit over the center of the triangle-within-circle pattern.

At the older man's signal, Harry released the caging charm and stepped back and watched mutely as one of the most talented wizards in recent history cast the fragment of his mother's spirit to rest.

Afterwards, in the shocked silence of the room, a tired Albus Dumbledore turned to face Harry, looking every one of his more than 150 years.

"May we speak privately, Harry?" he asked softly. "I would like to speak with Sybill as well, to enlighten us more on what she spoke of. Not tonight, but perhaps shortly."

"Yes, Headmaster." Harry responded evenly. His gaze never left the center of the wards where he had last seen the spirit of his mother.

Dumbledore turned to the room. "We will discuss what happened tonight at a later time, once Professor Trelawney has recovered. Harry, if you please?"

--

Harry had been ensconsced in a chair by the Headmaster, who considered him thoughtfully for some time.

"I understand that you are repressing your emotions with the help of your Occlumency, Harry. Normally I would even call it healthy- so long as you allowed yourself time to grieve."

"However?" Harry interjected.

The Headmaster sighed. "When I forced the information you used into your mind, it was a form of Legilimental attack- used benignly in this case, but an attack nevertheless. Typically, the memories given would cause disorientation or confusion, but primarily would make the Occlumens drop their mental defenses. What I gave you was part of my knowledge on how to remove and bind sprirts, as well as usage instructions. As you sleep tonight, your mind will attempt to reject what is not part of itself- and should you keep your defenses up, especially the primary wards, the result will be not a little painful, and possibly cause longer-lasting mental problems."

"And I have enough of those already." Harry replied. After a moment, he added, "Would a Dreamless Sleep potion still allow my subconscious to purge my mind?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I do not believe it would cause a problem- indeed, it should work nicely. I will send Madame Pomfrey or Miss Delacour to your room with it."

"Thank you. Shall I rest now, Headmaster?"

"Harry, if there is anything I can do to help you, please tell me." The sorrow in Dumbledore's voice was palpable. "You have dealt with more than anyone should be able to bear, and I have been a part of it. I do hope you will show me how best to help you."

Harry's bowed head lifted as he focused on the standing wizard. Closing his eyes briefly, he nodded once before making his way out of the room.

--

Harry was sitting on his bed, staring into nothingness when the door to the room opened. His eyes only snapped back into focus when a hand touched his shoulder. He looked up to see two identical quarter-veela mediwitches studying him with concern.

"So which one of you is Tonks?"

The emotionless delivery caused the farther away of the two to bustle up and cast a few spells on him before clucking her tongue.

"'Arry, you need to drop your Occlumency shields before ze 'eadmaster's memories 'arm you!" Fleur chided him.

The green-eyed boy seemed more alert now. "I know, and I will. Do you have the potion?"

The willowy blonde handed him a small potion vial, but Harry paused before uncorking it as the bed shifted. Looking back, he noted that Tonks had enlarged the bed. The metamorphagus answered his unasked question. "We're sleeping with you tonight, Harry. Deamless Sleep potion or not, you've been through a lot, and having someone there for you can help."

"Both of you?" he asked as he weakened the shields slightly.

The two identical-appearing women eyed each other neutrally. "Yes."

The wizard flopped back on the bed and rubbed his temple with his free hand. "And you thought that having not one, but two beautiful women in my bed would calm me down? I've never shared a bed with _a_ woman, much less _two_ women. When I wake up, I'll have a heart attack before I remember that you both fell asleep here of your own accord."

Once more, the witches shared a look. "So you're a vir-"

"Yes." he interrupted. "And you're lucky I'm still suppressing the bulk of my emotions, because that's a damned embarrassing revelation even with my shields up."

Harry felt his face flush as both women turned to give him an appraising look, turn to each other for a third time, and come to some sort of agreement via an unspoken conversation.

"Get ready for bed, 'arry." Fleur said gently. "Zere will be time enough for us to talk in ze future about 'ow 'orrible we are embarrassing you."

The Boy-Who-Lived stripped down to a t-shirt and boxers as the ladies transfigured their dresses into pajama pants and tops. They all piled into bed as Tonks fed him the potion and Harry released the last of his Occlumency defenses.

As Harry fell into sleep, he reflected that having both witches in bed with him was helpful- he was too nervous at their presence to cry about the loss of the last link to his mother before the potion-enduced unconsciousness claimed him.

--

Author's Notes:

Well, I can't say as I'm completely happy with this (and it's shorter than I'd like), but considering it's been a year and a month plus since I posted a chapter, I needed to get this off of my USB drive and upload it somewhere.

The vast majority of this chapter has existed since shortly after the last update of BoL, but in the interim it's been changed quite frequently- more angst, more drama, less of both, more humor- etc, etc, until I finally just gave up and edited it into what it is now. Once again, this is unbeta'd, except by me (which doesn't really accomplish anything, if you think about it.)

Some of the basic ideas I had started this story with I'm no long enamored with, but I don't see any reason to stop so soon- I do have pages of Harry meeting the goblins, etc. written (longhand, as is my wont) that need to be transcribed to file for chapter 5. Perhaps I can get myself to post Hollow 2 as well, once I finish cleaning it up.

Until next time (which won't be a damned year, I hope!)


	5. Chapter 5

A disclaimer is listed in the first chapter of the story; Author's Notes are listed at the bottom.

* * *

The day after the banishment of Lily Potter's ward-spirit was painful but enlightening for Harry. After much discussion with both Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Trelawney, it was clear that while Lily's spell had protected him throughout his early life, the run-in with the Voldemort-posessed Quirrel, and later, the sharing of his blood in Voldemort's rebirth ritual had introduced a touch of corruption to the ward, even as it saved his life.

Sibyll Trelawney, unfortunately, had also been affected by the spirit, having been left with the spirit's entire wealth of memories and feelings. While it made divining its motivations and methods easy, the double set of experiences almost gave the Divination professor a nervous breakdown. A strong calming draught crafted by Snape had been needed after the first time she accidentally called Harry 'baby'.

Harry was kept from dwelling on the emotional loss of his mother's spirit-shard by the revelation that the ward's interference had caused both his magic and his emotional maturity to be greatly curtailed. With its release, his already great power would hopefully begin to regulate itself and allow his aura and emotions to stabilize. Throughout the day, he experienced moments of incredible insight, where a piece of his past, or something that Dumbledore would discuss would become clear.

After a pleasant dinner with the professors, Harry found himself in Sirius' room again, staring at the ceiling in a brown study. So many things were running through his mind that he completely missed Tonks and Fleur's entrance. The metamorphmagus apparently decided that she didn't like being ignored, however, and felt it would be endlessly amusing to poke him in the forehead whenever he began frowning. After the first two sharp pokes in the head, Harry began batting her finger away as it approached. The next time he blocked Tonks' finger, Fleur jabbed him in the temple while giggling. Between his good-natured grumbling and the calm that both witches seemed to radiate, Harry finally cracked a small smile and relaxed enough to speak his mind.

"So... what brought on the two of you showing up in my room last night? I'm a little confused on a couple of things."

The two women shared an amused look. "What'z zo confuzing, 'arry?"

The wizard leaned his head over the back of the armchair. "Well, earlier in the day you two were about to have a catfight, both had been acting jealous of any time spent with the other- and suddenly you both walk in and tell me you're going to bed with me. C'mon, even I'm not _that_ dense."

Chuckling ruefully, Tonks replied, "You have a point there, Harry. While you were off charming a Potions Master-" she paused as he made gagging noises "-we took your command to heart and had a discussion. It helped us get a perspective on things, and allowed us to come to an agreement."

The Mona Lisa smiles that the girls wore were a bit unsettling. "And this agreement is..."

"Zat neizer 'ermione or 'leetle Gin-gin' dezervez to geet zeir clawz into you." Fleur replied heatedly.

"Uh..."

"What Fleur means, Harry," Tonks supplied, "is that we aren't the only ones who've noticed how attractive you've become. Both ladies apparently had designs on you of one kind or another- after our eavesdropping the other night, I've been listening in to some of their conversations at the Burrow. They've decided to try and keep you clueless about how 'hot' you are until they can mould you into a 'proper' boyfriend." Every time the auror made air quotes, her hair color changed.

"What in the hell is a proper boyfriend?" Harry asked.

Fleur opened her mouth but was silenced by the metamorphmagus' hand over her mouth. "Nuh-uh, I'm telling this story, little flower," she smirked. Turning to Harry, she began in a plummy voice "A proper boyfriend is sweet and kind and always puts his girlfriend first. A proper boyfriend gets his girl on the cover of Teen Witch Weekly because he smooches her in public. A-"

"He _what!"_

"From what I overheard, Ginny seems to have two mental images of you in her mind- Harry, and The Boy Who Lived, dragon slayer extraordinaire, defeater of Dark Wizards."

"It was a basilisk, and I didn't kill him, or else he wouldn't be back, you know."

"Oh, shaddup and stop interrupting, Harry!" Tonks laughed. "Anyhow, Ginny seems to see you as these two different people, and she was trying to make you into one person- picking what she thought was the best part of both personalities, of course."

Harry groaned. "Please tell me Hermione set her straight."

"Actually, she seemed to think that Ginny's ideas weren't that bad- especially the one where she said she'd smack you on the head when you moped or got quiet, and kiss you when you acted nice- the carrot and stick approach, y'know. Hermione figured that having Ginny around to help control your moods would be better for everyone."

The messy-haired wizard's face had been turning Uncle-Vernon-puce as Tonks talked. As soon as she finished, he exploded "What in the hell were they thinking!"

"Zhey may not be." Fleur allowed grudgingly. "Eet's possible zat you fried zhere fluffy leetle 'eadz."

Predictably, Harry quieted a bit at that. "Hrm.. I don't like the fact that they seem to believe that I'd go along with something like that. I don't want to be controlled. Maybe I did do something to them." He stilled in thought, and a moment later ventured, "But what about you two yesterday morning when you pulled me out of the ward? You were trying to strip me naked! Did I make you crazy too?"

Again, the two witches shared a look, and Fleur shrugged. "Ze feeling waz overwheling, 'arry. I don't theek zat I've been zo turned on in my life. Eet waz not a conscious choice at ze time."

Tonks nodded in agreement. "And it continued during lunch too- I can't even begin to tell you if I had a coherent thought in my head or what we were arguing about- but then when you left, Fleur and I talked and had a chance to get control of ourselves. Maybe we're a bit better able to withstand the rush of hormones since we've been through puberty. Of course, later we got hit with the full flush of your aura when we got back to Dumbledore with the gems, and we still seem to be alright. Maybe you're assuming that your aura is more potent than it is, or maybe it's something you become used to."

"Albus cast the nullification spell on everyone last night, though."

Tonks shook her head. "We weren't in the room at the time."

Harry's eyes widened in horror. "I brainwashed you." he said.

"No you didn't."

"But-"  
"_Non, '_arry."

"But, I-"

Both women slapped a hand over his mouth. "Hold on before you make assumptions, lover boy." the English witch smirked. "Look, I thought you were cute when I met you- way too young, and cute in a very super-skinny, diamond-in-the-rough kind of way, but you were cute. During the year, I heard you were broody and depressed, but when I saw you this summer, there was something about you that seemed- well, different. Yes, you were broody and depressed and weepy, but then again, I was too. But when I talked to you, there was a person under all the crap you had been through that I couldn't help but be attracted to. Your magic sex whammy was just icing on the cake."

The teenaged boy looked bemused and blinked a few times. "I never would have guessed that you'd really be interested in me."

"Well, neither did I at first, Harry. Until I got to know you, at least, and then it was a given. Of course, I figured that I could dance completely naked in front of you and you wouldn't get the hint- you are a bit clueless with women. You have reason to be so, though."  
Harry almost swallowed his tongue at the dancing comment, but gamely replied, "I can't even believe that I'm having a conversation about this, especially since I'm acting sort-of-adult, and with _two_ women, no less." He shook his head ruefully and looked at the blonde Veela. "Do you want to talk about it, Fleur?"

The French witch bowed her head and mumbled something in French, then began. "Eet was ze Second Task zat started eet, 'arry. What you did to save my sister was ze work of a true hero. Veela- even part Veela, like me- sense people differently."

Fleur was picking her words carefully and her accent had all but vanished as she groped for the right words to say. "I started to get a feel for ze kind of man you would become. Still, you were young, and Bill was irresistible to someone like me- dashing, strong, and manly. But when I saw you in ze infirmary ze ozer day, zere was something that caught my senses. Zhey told me you would be a perfect man for me. When you 'eld me as I cried, I wanted to pounce on you and claim you as mine. Of course, your-" the Veela's voice suddenly gained a timbre that sent a thrill through him, "-magic sex whammy gives you a certain _je ne sais quoi_ that iz quite zomezing."

Harry took a moment to quiet his libido and get his thoughts in order. "So despite being hit with the full flush of my unwarded aura, neither of you think you were badly affected by it." When both ladies shook their heads he frowned a bit. "I don't know if I believe you, honestly. Look, I won't argue that either of you find me attractive- although I don't agree- but to have both of you see me as too young to be boyfriend material or whatnot, and then suddenly deciding it doesn't matter anymore at the time I'm leaking a lust-aura- and you're both sitting here telling me about it in front of the other? Acting like you're willing to share me? Or maybe you're you going to take turns- or wait for me to make a decision between you two and the other will accept it calmly? I don't want to say I'm sceptical, but hey- I am."

Tonks sighed. "We figured you'd be a little bit leery, Harry. Maybe not quite this bad, but close."

"We understand if you want to 'ave 'eadmaster Dumbledore verify we're in 'our right minds, 'arry." The pretty blonde witch's eye had a gleam Harry wasn't sure of. "But before you do, we 'ave zomezhing to tell you, and zomezhing to teach you- zomezhing every man should know."

"What's that?" Harry asked warily.

"We're going to teach you how to kiss!" Tonks chirped merrily.

"And 'arry- we do share." Fleur growled throatily.

They reached for him then, and all he could do was surrender to their sweet lips.

--

The next day started with a private conversation between the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the Boy Who Lived. After the elder wizard examined both women- including Legilimental probing- and the discussion was moved into a soundproofed room on the second floor.

"What did you find, Professor?" Harry asked worriedly.

Dumbledore turned from casting an imperturbable charm on the door without his normal twinkle. "Harry, I do not know if you will take this news well. Please do let me finish all that I will say before you ask questions."

The metamorphmagus and part-veela each grabbed one of Harry's hands as the old wizard settled into a conjured chair.

"While I did not detect signs of 'brainwashing', as you termed it, it does seem that your magic may have affected them in a different manner. I am sure that after viewing the veela at the World Cup that you are aware that they are not fully human- or rather, it is speculated that they are a very early magical offshoot of humanity that has changed over the centuries. While they are fully capable of interbreeding with humans- magical or muggle- someone with veela blood has drives and abilities that mere wizards may not understand, one of which is the drive to find a suitable mate." The wizard looked faintly uncomfortable discussing the subject in mixed company, and as Harry attempted to process the information given to him a stray thought occurred that discussions like this had probably been quite improper when the Headmaster was a younger man.

"Headmaster, if I can make a guess to what you're hinting at, while I didn't directly influence Fleur- like a love potion or the Imperious or something would, my aura marks me as a good mate?" Harry ventured.

"_Oui_," Fleur interjected,"Ozer witches may t'ink you are attractive when zhey sense the power of your magic, zhere is a feeling zhat tells me you are a perfect mate for a veela." The woman blushed prettily. "If I was a full-blooded veela, I do not zhink I could resist throwing myself on you."

Harry reclaimed his hand from Tonks and rubbed the side of his head pensively. "And it doesn't bother you that this sense of yours is telling you that a skinny, younger kid is your perfect mate?"

"If you were not ze 'arry I see, zhen I would be fighting it wit' all of my might," she stated firmly, "but you are a kind, 'onest, courageous man. Of courze, you are not perfect, and you 'ave anozer woman who wants you as well, but zoze zings do not seem to be so bozersome. Things will work out in time."

Tears threatened to fall from Harry's eyes as pulled the French witch into a hug. "Thank you, Fleur." he murmured into her shoulder. "I can't promise that everything _will_ work out, but I will do all I can to make it happen." At her nod, Harry turned to Tonks, who waited with an unreadable expression in her eyes. "Is there something similar that's happened with you, Tonks?"

The metamorphmagus looked over at the Headmaster, then back at Harry. "Yeah." she sighed. "I didn't know all of this myself, but apparently research seems to think that metamorphmagi have a sense that allows them to detect people who are magically powerful, and the morphing lets them change themselves into a form that's attractive. Apparently the more powerful the wizard or witch is that you mate with, the more likely that one of the children will be a metamorph. And apparently metamorphs can happen through random chance, which seems to be how I came about."

Harry pulled Tonks into a fierce embrace. "Alright. I can't make promises, like I said. But if you're willing to put up with a guy who has absolutely no experience with women, then we can work this out."

At this , Harry was swept into combined embrace of the women and kissed quite thoroughly in front of the Headmaster. Harry's embarrassment manifested itself as a local loss of gravity that left all four sprawled on the floor and a disturbing twinkle in the old wizard's eye. Shortly thereafter, Harry was pulled into a training session with the Headmaster and Professors Flitwick and McGonagall. Between the time he spent with his paramours and the time taken by the three teachers, he was constantly tired, but nonetheless he could barely wipe the smile off of his face.

The blissful few days were interrupted by the return of Remus Lupin. The werewolf's arrival meant that the trip to Gringotts could be put off no longer. The three made arrangements for the next day, and set off early in the mooring.

--

Harry had been dreading this day. The reading of Sirius' Will made his loss too final for Harry, and in an attempt to keep himself from breaking down in tears, he had Occluded his emotions in preparation. He watched calmly as Remus spoke with a teller, who quickly ushered them through a myriad of confusing passages and ensconced them into a lavish antechamber. As they sat and stewed for a moment, Harry glanced over at the former DADA professor and noticed he was visibly pale and wide-eyed.

"Professor, what's wrong?" Harry asked calmly. His Occlumency shields were strong enough that he felt slightly disconnected from reality, but he could still sense Remus' agitation.

The scarred man looked at him incredulously. "Harry, from the name on the door, we're in the reception room for the Head Goblin of Gringotts!"

"Oh." Even Harry looked a little peaked then.

After only a few minutes, a goblin appeared and ushered the three through the tall mahogany doors leading into the inner office. As they crossed the threshold Harry felt a tingle, like passing though an active spell boundary. After the first touch the feeling faded, and neither Remus nor Tonks reacted, so Harry shrugged the feeling off.

The Head Goblin's office was gigantic, easily the size of four Hogwarts classrooms. The carpeting was a dark maroon, thick enough that it gave the impression of walking on springs. The desk they approached would have been imposing anywhere else, but here it was dwarfed by the scale of the room that contained it. Goblin-sized pieces of armor and weaponry covered the walls and reinforced the immensity the office.

Three goblins waited for them as they reached the desk. The two figures flanking the desk smiled widely and unsettlingly as the third rose from his seat to greet them.

"Miss Nymphadora Tonks, Mister Remus John Lupin, and Mister Harry James Potter..." the goblin paused as Harry met his eyes and felt a twinge of something primal in his brain. Unlike Snape, however, he sensed no hostility in the goblin, only power. The shorter figure's eyes widened and the pointed goblin smile became a bit more relaxed, "please be seated. I am Goldclaw, and this is Irongrip and Steelsnap, the executors of the Potter and Black estates respectively. There is much to cover today, and I am sure that you do not wish to remain here any longer than necessary. Unless you have any questions before we begin, let us start."

As the three sat, Steelsnap stepped forward and began to speak. "The Magical Will of Sirius Black has been activated. By his command, I will now execute his Will and Testament." The goblin produced a silvered disc covered with runes, placed it on the desk in front of them, and tapped it. A foot-high image of Sirius appeared, looking healthy and composed.

"I, Sirius Orion Black, give this pensieve memory to be taken as my will." The figure smiled grimly. "Now, there are only three people I want there- Harry Potter, Remus Lupin, and Nymphadora Tonks. If either of my sisters show up, you can leave- I'll even phrase it legally for you."

Arms behind his back, the figure of Sirius intoned formally, "I recognize Narcissa Black Malfoy, deny all claims to the Black holdings, and bequeath her nothing. I also recognize Bellatrix Black Lestrange, deny all claims to the Black holdings and bequeath her nothing. Leave this reading immediately." The figure paused and smirked. "And now for the people I actually love:"

"To Nymphadora Tonks, I leave one million galleons in a private vault, an additional one million galleons as a certificate of deposit with the greatest dividend offered by Gringotts, and the items and letter specified in Attachment One of my will." The image paused a moment, then grinned. "I suppose you're surprised to see me so serious. I don't find it quite as fun as being Padfoot, but alas, I'm stuck with being Sirius." The foot-high Sirius barked a laugh and spoke, "I pause for your groans."

"Now, on to the next order of business. To my best friend and brother in all but blood, Remus John Lupin, I leave five million galleons in a private vault- with the stipulation that he _must_ purchase new clothes within a week of this will reading. And for the love of Merlin, Moony- get a woman with a sense of style to dress you. You look like a male Madame Pince." Sirius noted parenthetically. "I also leave him the items, letter and property specified in Attachment Two of my will."

"Finally, I will speak with Harry James Potter." The image frowned for a moment before continuing. "Not to a muggle or magical guardian, not to Albus Dumbledore, and not while either Narcissa or Bellatrix remain within the room."

Harry blinked and glanced over at Tonks and Remus. Both seemed shocked at the grave mien of the image, and Remus looked ready to ask a question before Sirius began speaking again. "Remus, Tonks, please stay. Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger can stay. If any Malfoys remain, turn them into ferrets and remove them." The figure froze for a moment while Steelsnap assured them that they were the only humans in the office.

"Done? Good. To Harry James Potter, child of Lily and James Potter, I bestow upon you all monies, items, and properties not bequeathed to another person previously in this will. Additionally, I ask- and only ask, Harry- that you assume the title of Lord Black. Before you agree or disagree, however, let me tell you some of what it entails, and what I think would benefit you."

"If you assume the title of Lord Black, you will immediately be emancipated, and further, as a titled Lord, be given far more leeway in your actions within the Wizarding World. There are few remaining Wizarding Lordships, and the rules are still in force that would render you effectively immune to prosecution of any type.

Once you are emancipated, you parents' will will also come into effect. The Potters are not Wizarding nobility, but they do have a seat on the Wizengamot, and have been seen as a powerfully Light-sided family for generations.

On the negative side, the Black name is not looked on kindly. At one time the Blacks were the Dark Lords of the magical world, then they were the right hands of the Dark Lords, and now Bella is the personal psychotic killer of a Dark Lord- so not only do we have the history of evil, we're also seen as crazy.

The sheer size of the inheritances may be an issue, but both families' estates are self-regulating with the help of the goblins. You would gain Narcissa, Bellatrix, Draco, Andromeda and Nymphadora as family members, but they are the only relatives still alive at this time.

Now, I'm sure I have not covered every possible question you would have. I may not have even scratched the surface. Had I not run away from the family and been able to take control of House Black, much of this would be a moot point. Don't do what I did, Harry- think this through. Don't do what someone else tells you, but listen to what they have to say and then make your own decision. I wish I would have been there to raise you and teach you- you're like a son to me, the best of James and Lily rolled into one person. I love you, Harry, and I wish I could tell you what to do. I know you'll make the right decision, though."

The figure paused, and as Harry blinked to refocus his eyes, Goldclaw peered over the desk at them.

"Does anyone here wish to dispute Mister Black's will?" he asked in a cold tone.

At their negation he continued. "Mister Potter, Mister Black's legacy to you is not without precedence. The Wentworth Family Head died without issue and bequeathed their Lordship to the Argyll Family four hundred years ago. The choice, as Mister Black stated, is yours. Please feel free to converse with your companions, or take a day to decide."

Harry nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Goldclaw."

Turning to the wizard and witch beside him, he relaxed himself from the quasi-trance Dumbledore had taught him. "What are your suggestions? Tonks, Professor?"

The two shared a look before the prematurely-grey professor gestured for Tonks to go first. The Auror shifted forward in her seat to look past Remus and locked eyes with Harry.

"Well, I can tell you that the nobility is an awfully powerful incentive all on its own. I think any auror would be leery of even saying anything to a Lord, and a Ministers who have tried to interfere with the few remaining Lords have all met with ruin shortly after. As for the rest of it- who cares what the world thinks of you? They'll change their minds in a day anyhow."

Remus' face had pinched up as Tonks had spoken. "I really don't know what to tell you, Harry. Tonks makes a good point about the Lordship itself, but taking on the mantle of two houses, and one being the House Black especially, is quite an undertaking, no matter how self-regulating they may be. That's not even talking about inherited blood debt you'd take on."

"If I may interrupt," the wizened goblin that had been introduced as Steelsnap said, "I can tell you that House Black has no blood debts outstanding."

"Are there any other outstanding obligations that you can tell me about, Steelsnap?" Harry probed.

"I cannot, Mister Potter. Blood debt is a touchy subject, and we feel it is only right to warn someone before they take it on. All other... obligations, as you term them, would be subject to negotiation."

Harry smiled as he nodded to the spectacled goblin. "Thank you, Steelsnap."

The goblin's eyes widened for a moment before he nodded back. "Of course." he replied, sharing a glance with the other two goblins.

The dark-haired boy leaned back in the plush chair and steepled his fingers. "I have already spoken with many people about this subject. As the final decision rests in me, I state that I accept the Lordship of House Black."

All three goblins grew identical wide smiles. "Excellent, Mister Potter. Unfortunately, the legalities of assuming Headship will be long and involved. Would you have at least three hours free today for the preliminaries?"

Harry suppressed a wince, and sighed as both Remus and Tonks nodded. "Yes Goldclaw. And please- call me Harry."

--

Almost exactly three hours later, Lord Harry Potter-Black stepped out of Gringotts. While visits to his various vaults would wait until later, he was richer by two family rings, which gleamed from both ring fingers.

"So, you didn't go with Black-Potter, Harry?" Tonks commented.

Harry shook his head, "No, Potter-Black, Tonks"

The metamorphmagus smirked as if he had fallen into a trap. "Oh so you _will_ be taking my name when we marry? That's quite sporting of you."

Shocked, Harry stumbled into a laughing werewolf who pushed him back upright.

"Marry you?" Harry sputtered, blushing brightly. He paused a moment, collected himself, then looked at the lavender-haired woman speculatively. Squinting one eye and looking her up and down slowly, he shook his head. "Nah, concubine."

"Concubine?" she shrieked.

Shading his eyes, Harry looked up at the sky and laughed. "Yeah. Give me too much lip and I won't even make you Head Concubine of my harem." He chuckled a bit as he walked towards the Leaky Cauldron, leaving the Auror to gape.

Tonks turned to the werewolf doubled over in laughter beside her. "Did Harry just tease me back?"

Wiping tears from his eyes, Remus stood and nodded. "Yeah. I had my doubts, but I think Harry's learning to give as good as he gets. Finally."

Trailing after the two men, she shook her head slowly as she ran the conversation through her head. "Oh no, I'm not letting him get away with that!"

--

When the three returned to Grimmauld Place they found the kitchen occupied by Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Flitwick, and a young Weasley.

"Ron!" Harry crowed as the two pounded each other's back. After settling back down, Harry noticed that Ron was playing Professor Flitwick in Wizard's Chess and acquitting himself nicely. Moving his bishop, the redhead turned to the Boy-Who-Lived. "So I couldn't help but overhear that I've missed out on a lot lately, huh?"

Harry scrubbed his face with his hands, then tapped his glasses back down onto his nose. "Just a bit, mate. I don't know how much your opponent filled you in on-" Both professors smirked at the green-eyed boy. "-but I caused the Dursley's house to explode, found out that the spell cast by my mother kept my mental growth stunted, and I'm the heir to two magical family legacies." Harry winced internally as he thought about how Ron might react.

"Ah. Killed Voldemort yet?" The taller boy asked laconically.

After a full minute of silence, Ron turned to see Harry staring at him in stunned silence.

"Did I mention that I'd already been filled in earlier?" he smirked.

"Git!" Harry bellowed before breaking up in laughter. "Now why don't you tell me what really was wrong with you."

Ron and Professor Flitwick agreed to continue the game after the boys caught up, and the two teenagers escaped to Sirius' room.

"Well, I was fine at first, but after I'd been home for a few days, all of a sudden I started seeing things that weren't there and remembering things I never learned. I feel all wonky, but apparently I was normal enough- for a while. Then mum told me to de-gnome the garden, and I started yelling at her in ancient Mongolian. After an hour of that and reciting thirty-seven lesser known potion ingredients and their uses, she finally got fed up and drug me off to St. Mungo's. They gave me so many potions I was even more out of it- I thought I was Merlin at one point! Anyhow, they straightened me out last week, and after hearing what happened to you from Hermione and Ginny, I finally convinced Mum to let me check up on you." Ron shrugged as he finished. "I'm glad too, because the two of them are acting barmy."

Harry nodded at that. "Yeah, from what Tonks and Fleur have told me, they've become Lavender and Parvati Junior."

The redhead chuckled at first, then paled as the rest of the sentence sank in. "Fleur is here? Oh Merlin," he groaned, "Has she told you what happened?"

"A little- all I know is that quit her job at Gringotts and there was a fight about something related to her at the Burrow. She's working with Madame Pomfrey now and helped take care of me when I blew up the Dursley's house. When I asked her why she was there, that's all I got before she started crying- well, that and something about not knowing how to do chores."

Ron had taken over Harry's favorite chair, so the shorter wizard sat on the bed and watched the freckled boy collect his thoughts.

"Well... This is going to sound strange, but I think part of the problem was the stuff that happened because of the brains- the Mediwizards called it something technical, but I just remember 'brain transference something, something syndrome'. Fleur was around the Burrow because she had just been let go- fired really- from Gringotts. Bill said something about how her veela aura caused goblins to become lazy and tired rather than attracted to her, so one of the bosses gave her the boot. Mum tried to keep her busy with chores like we get, but apparently Fleur's family has servants, so she didn't know how to do laundry or cook, or even de-gnome the garden. So then she was moping about the job _and_ not being able to help mum.

Well, she's crying one day, and I start speaking French to her when Bill and Charlie walk in. Bill says something in one of the old languages he learned in Ancient Runes, I apparently say something back, and the next thing I know we're trying to beat each other senseless while Charlie's trying to pry us apart. Then Bill accidentally cracks Charlie in the nose, and we all start in on each other. Mum had to stun us to get us to stop, and by the time she enervated me and told me to de-gnome the garden as punishment, Fleur had broken it off with Bill and left. I figured she had gone back to France." he finished morosely.

"Damn, mate. If it didn't happen to people I knew, it'd be funny. I had no idea that everything was that screwed up." The wizard sighed. "And to make things worse, both she and Tonks have told me they like me." Harry figured that it was best to get all of the issues out of the way now, before it came back to bite him later.

Ron chuckled without humor. "I wouldn't worry about it too much. Bill seems to be okay with the breakup. We talked a lot in the past couple of weeks, and he said something about not feeling the constant sense of her aura made him feel more relaxed, like he didn't have to deal with other guys flirting with her or staring. Did the whole thing start because of your aura stuff that the Headmaster mentioned?"

Harry shrugged. "Who knows? They both claim it didn't, but I don't see why they'd suddenly have an interest in me at such a convenient time."

"Well, we are a couple of pretty attractive blokes, you know." Ron smilingly mentioned.

This time, Harry was the one who laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, right."

"No, really." Ron said, sitting up in the chair. "I don't know if it's something left over from the brains or what, but while I was in St. Mungo's, I was flirting with all the pretty nurses, and they'd flirt right back! I mean, I'm no Lockhart-" he smirked while waggling his eyebrows amusedly- "but there were a couple of mediwitches-in-training that kept showing up in my room to 'check on my recovery' more often than was necessary, and they always seemed willing to sit and talk for quite a while. One was Lavender's older sister, actually."

"You've changed, Ron."

The youngest male Weasley flushed, a bit embarrassed. "I guess- between the Department, the brains and their memories, the flirting with pretty women, and all the time I had to myself, I guess I've had to grow up a bit." He frowned slightly and looked off into the distance. "It sucks, really. I'd much prefer not to have to be serious, much less grow up."

The Boy-Who-Lived chuckled a bit. "I agree with you there, but we never have to be completely serious. It'd be nice if everything was as simple as being able to chat up cute nurses, of course. Instead, in addition to Voldemort hanging over my head, I have two houses to finish inheriting tomorrow, two girls who were scheming to turn me in to the perfect boyfriend, and two witches who say they want to be with me."

"Look mate, I'd be worse than useless helping you with the female side of things, but I'll be your right-hand man whenever you need it."

Harry gave a genuine smile. "I'd hoped you'd say that, Ron. In fact, I have a rather important issue for you already, and if you think I have it bad, you might have it even worse."

"Why's that?" Ron asked curiously.

Harry patted his pockets until he found a piece of parchment and fished it out. "If you want any of what Sirius asked me to bequeath you, you've got to convince your mum to take this."  
Ron read the paper and gaped. "She won't accept this!"

The other wizard shrugged. "Well, until you get her to take it, I get to play around with the Firebolt he left for you."

"Bloody git."

--

"Lord Potter-

"Harry, please."  
"Lord Potter-Black," the wizened goblin continued with a small but toothy smile, "I have completed the audit of all outstanding debts and issues of the Black Family. Narcissa Black Malfoy has brought suit for control of the Black Family, or as she stated- "Draco Malfoy's rightful inheritance"."

Harry sighed, but kept himself from making the sort of comments he dearly wanted to. Ron's derisive snort made up for holding his tongue. "And do they have a case against us?"

Steelsnap's face held what Harry had learned to interpret as a sneer. "No. Had the heirship ritual failed then she would have a case. Of course, it would be a moot point, as you would be dead. It is difficult to file suit against a dead man."

"The only suit I want brought against me when I die is a paternity suit from my young mistress." Harry commented, looking over at Ron and Remus.

"Only one?" they chorused in an odd synchronicity, then looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Laughing himself, Harry turned back to the goblin.

"Did you find anything else, Steelsnap?"

"Only one other item, my Lord. The only outstanding contract of any kind is an arrangement of marriage to the Greengrass Family." the goblin pronounced with a note of finality.

Harry's good mood evaporated quickly. "Oh dear God, I'd hoped you wouldn't say that." Harry groaned. "The loss of the lordship, giving money away, duels to the death- I expected pretty much any of it, but the one thing I was hoping wouldn't come up, did."

"Well, they're not common anymore, but arranged marriages aren't unheard of among some of the older families, Harry." Ron offered. "I think Malfoy and Parkinson had a pledge made when they were little." The youngest male Weasley ignored Harry's attempts to speak as he continued. "Now, I know that you probably think that it's a horrible idea and all- and well, it is pretty awful, but the idea's hardly unheard of- I'm sure the Potter Family has had a few in its history."

The dark-haired wizard shut his mouth and grumbled for few moments. "Ron, you are acting way too calm for my nerves."

The redhead shrugged. "I'm not the bloke with the marriage contract. Besides, you might be able to get out of it anyhow."

Harry sighed and shook his head. "Fine. Before I blow this out of proportion, what exactly does the contract say?"

Steelsnap handed Harry a piece of parchment nearly as yellowed as the goblin's own hands, then steepled his fingers in front of his face. "In essence, the Black Patriarch two generations ago promised a grandchild of the family in marriage, assuming the Greengrass Family had remained 'pure' until that time- at that time, many considered five generations of pureblood breeding to the the minimum required to be considered a truly pure line. You would be the generation of that granchild, even if you were not born into the family."

Smiling triumphantly, Harry remarked, "I'm not a pureblood, though."

"You'd need to ask the Head of the Greengrass family if they cared." the old goblin replied. "The agreement says nothing about the purity of the Black family, although I'm sure it was expected they would be. The Greengrasses happen to have a female of marriageable age, so you will need to present the contact to them. Only then can the two families decide to continue with it or not."

This time Harry's smile lacked warmth. "Wonderful. I get to present a marriage contract to the father of a girl I've never spoken to, or even noticed." He stopped and turned to everyone else. "Does anyone even know where their sympathies lie? I don't fancy showing up to talk with the man in the middle of a Death Eater potluck dinner."

Everyone shrugged save Dumbledore, who had remained deep in thought at the back of the room. "While the Greengrass family have never been openly Dark, their family fortunes were created on the trade and sale of potions ingredients, including a large amount of illicit and dangerous ones."

"So are they just shady, or actually evil? Or both, even?" Harry asked with a frown.

Ron shrugged again. "Well, she is in Slytherin. Could you trust her?"

"I don't trust Marietta, and she's Ravenclaw. Cho either, for that matter."

"Wormtail was a Gryffindor." Remus noted quietly.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Harry leaned his chair back onto its hind legs. "Great. So, is there a time limit that this needs to be accomplished by?"

"Before your sixteenth birthday, Lord Potter-Black." Steelsnap replied.

--

Fleur and Tonks both looked solemn as Harry told them what he had learned earlier that day. Neither woman wore the expression well.

Their relationship- if it could be properly called that- between the three was still too new for the wizard to guess how either would react, and he dreaded telling them that he might be forced into marriage before they could explore what they felt for each other. Both women had recent bad breakups- though Fleur's was more painful than most- and all three enjoyed and accepted the comfort that the others provided. It had looked to be a amazingly stable grouping, despite his youth and inexperience- and it looked as if it would be killed before it could bloom.

"An arranged marriage, huh?" Tonks finally ventured. Fleur was silent as she read through the contract.

"Yeah." he sighed. "I don't see an easy way out if they don't take offence to my half-bloodedness. Otherwise, like Steelsnap concluded, it's pretty ironclad. Maybe I could act all crazy and foam at the mouth when I meet them. The Prophet makes me out to be crazy anyhow, so I could use that to my advantage for once."

The quarter-veela looked up from the paper as he finished and nibbled daintily at her lower lip. Her eyes were focused on something beyond the room as she stood and kissed him soundly, grabbed the metamorphmagus and drug her from the room.

"Tonks and I will be in ze library." she commented offhandedly as she left.

Harry blinked bemusedly while the two newest ladies in his life swept out of the room. Shrugging, he wandered off to read a Defense text that Dumbledore had dropped off.

He found himself blinking again- rapidly and with shock- when a few short hours later they informed him that they would happily marry him as well.

"Is that legal? I mean, we haven't even-" he stammered.

"You will be the 'eir of two powerful families, 'arry. Zhere is precident zat when zomezing like zis 'appens, ze 'eir must try to reestablish the viability of both family lines." Fleur smiled toothily.

"And normally that was done by taking multiple wives, Harry dear." Tonks smirked. "Just be glad you weren't Lord Argyll- apparently he had ten wives. It also sounds like he died from acute henpecking."

Harry furrowed his brow. "Now, don't take this wrong, but I hadn't seen marriage in my immediate future, and I certainly didn't think I'd have three wives. Could we hope that the Greengrasses don't like me first, and then we can worry about getting married on our own schedule after that?"

The ladies shared one of the looks that Harry had been unable to interpret, even with the bit of Legilimency Dumbledore had recently taught him. "You're not arguing about wanting to be married to us, just the speed?"

"Right."

"So you love us enough to marry us already?" Tonks probed.

"Look, I'm sure we've talked enough about how I grew up- I don't know if I know what love is. I'll be honest- I trust you both, I care for you both, and even if this isn't love, I don't want it to ever stop."

Harry didn't understand why both women began to cry, or why they were smiling at the same time. He would always remember, however, that the kisses burned like fire in his mind.

* * *

Author's Note:

Yeah, I'm slow.

I wanted to have another chapter of Hollow out at the same time, but damned if Tonks and Harry aren't causing me some problems- mostly Tonks, really. To compensate for them being so incredibly hard to write, I've written some non-HP-related stuff, and worked on a story I've puttered around with off-and-on that explains a system of magic I'd like to use in some original writings some day.

As always, the only beta was Microsoft Word, so if you see logical inconsistencies, misspellings, or you don't like the way the story's going, blame Bill Gates, not me. It's much more relaxing for me that way.


End file.
